He doesn’t respond. Just stares at me, holding the knife still. Waiting. Waiting for me to take it, waiting for me to speak.
Ihave nothing to say. Because his silence is its own answer, in a way.
Slowly, I reach my hand out and take the hilt of the knife.
He nods. “Three days,” he repeats. “It goes without saying, but don’t breathe a word of this to any of the other girls. They’ll understand when it’s done.”
I feel numb. Ice creeping from my heart and through my veins.
“I know it’ll be hard at first,” Sol says. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he really does sound sympathetic. “But we’ll be here for you after. We’ll always be here for you. Your real family. Your garden.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it gently. “Part of your trials is letting go of things that hold you back. She’s holding all of us back. This will be good for you in the long run, sweetheart. I promise.”
After an awkward, long moment of silence, he walks over and opens the door. “Better hide that knife while the girls are busy. Then why don’t you help me with dinner? We’ll make a little bit of a treat for everyone since you’ve all been working so hard.”
He sounds so normal now. So calm and casual. There’s still that note of sadness in his voice, but nothing close to the emotion I’d expect to hear from him after he just asked me to take the life of a girl I’m falling in love with.
“Okay,”I murmur as I stand up, my knees shaking. I walk past him and up the stairs to the attic. My limbs feel as if they are moving through molasses.
I stand in the middle of the floor for a long time, staring at the knife in my hand, unsure what to do with it. Three days. I have three days.
“Iris?” Sol calls from downstairs. “Are you coming back down?”
“Yes.”
I slide the knife beneath my mattress, right beside the drawing Zinnia gave me for my anniversary. It feels so wrong, putting something so violent and full of dread beside one of my sweetest treasures. But it’s the only place I can think of.
A little dagger at my back.
A dagger that I’m meant to plunge into the back of someone else.
Once it is hidden, I take a few deep breaths, compose myself, and go back downstairs. Sol is waiting for me. He’s smiling now. Almost cheerful.
“Come on,” he says. “Violet shot a huge buck yesterday. We’re going to have a nice meal with fresh meat. It’ll be great. A thank-you to everyone who has worked so hard on our garden, and you’ll help.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll help.”
IRIS
“Finally,I get you alone.”
I look up and see Rose, black hair in a messy bun, lips perfectly painted, and dressed in a pair of oversized overalls, walking through the open doors of the shed. She gives me a sly smile.
“Hey,” I say, turning away from her and continuing my task.
Sol had sent me in here to arrange the seed packets. It’s pointless, tedious work. There are plenty of other things that need to get done. But I can’t help wondering if he knows what Lily told me yesterday. If he’s trying to remind me of the consequences of refusing my trial.
If he is, it’s working.
I keep looking in the corners, half expecting to find ropes or chains used to keep a stubborn girl locked away. I imagine Marigold here, arguing as Lily begs her to reconsider. I wonder what her final trial was, what she rejected. I wonder how long shewas exiled to this dark, dirty shed before making her ill-fated escape.
I hear the doors close and feel Rose walk over and lean against the shelf beside me, her arm brushing against mine. “Hey, so, I’m trying to do the cute flirty thing. If you could lean into that? I’d appreciate it.”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I’m just … I’m busy.”
I can’t turn toward her. Can’t look her in the eye. I only have a couple of days to decide. Her fate. My fate. It all hinges on what I do with that knife beneath my mattress. I don’t deserve to look at her. I definitely can’t flirt with her. She deserves someone who wouldn’t even hesitate to refuse. Who would choose her without a second thought.
I’m not that strong, though.
Even now, part of me keeps coming back to the idea that Rose is a weed in our garden. That she’s here to tempt me away from my brighter future, to keep me from blooming. That she’s dangerous and insidious. It would be so much easier if I fully believed that.
