Daisy helped pack some of my stuff before leaving to the gym.

“Will you be in touch, Emily? Please say you will! You’ve become one of my bestest friends.”

I promised to stay in touch, and I actually meant it. I’d grown attached to the fluffy-haired and fluffy-brained eighteen-year old, despite myself.

I was going back home to live with Mom for a while until I found a job. I had applied to a few publishing houses in Manhattan, and I even had an interview with one tomorrow morning. It was only a few blocks from the apartment where Mom lived.

As I opened one of the drawers in my nightstand, some of the contents in the drawer spilled out by mistake. I bent down to pick up some papers, and a card slid out into my hands.

I felt my pulse quicken as I recognized the handwriting. The card read, Fleures pour une fleure. Sebastian.

How had that gotten here? I could’ve sworn I’d thrown everything out that reminded me of him. I went to throw it into the trashcan, then realized I couldn’t bring myself to do it.