“Frankie! You’re the worst," Everly says with a groan, but she can’t help the stupid smile in response to her friend’s jibe.
“Real though, you should go. Just swing by and check, then at least you’ll feel better knowing. Whatever the outcome is, it’s better to know," Frankie says.
“You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“Say that again? Not sure I heard you.”
Everly slaps their arm lightly and rolls her eyes. “Get out of my car.”
Frankie cackles, then groans as it triggers their hangover headache, pulling the car door open and stumbling out with their hand shading their eyes.
“Good luck out there," Frankie says, then slowly shuffles their way to the front door and disappearsinside.
Everly is left alone in her car, and she lets it idle in Frankie’s driveway for a minute while she takes a moment to herself. She doesn’t feel as terrible as she did a few hours ago, but she still doesn’t feel great physically or mentally.
Despite that, she’s determined to get some answers today. Everly works best off a solid plan, so she takes a few minutes to think about it. Her first step is to go home and change. Maybe also take some more pain killers, chug some water, and grab a bite to eat, if she can stomach it.
She thinks about the rest of her plan for going to the greenhouse while driving home, mentally fortifying herself for bad, worse, andworst.
~~~
Everly is idling in her car again, this time in her driveway instead of Frankie’s. She’s washed, changed clothes, and checked everything off her list, as well as a few random extra things, and there’s nothing left to procrastinate with. It’s now or never, but she can’t get her hands and feet to work together properly to shift the car into drive.
She’s been trying not to let the spiraling, negative thoughts take over, but that’s nearly impossible at this point. Reflecting that the pounding in her head stopped over an hour ago, she decides if she can’t block them out, she’ll drown them out. Pulling out her phone, Everly connects to her car’s bluetooth and pulls up her “dance” playlist, the one she mainly uses when cleaning. Blasting it as loud as she can stand, she inhales a fortifying breath and takes the plunge.
On the drive to Magnolia Nursery, she focuses entirely on the music. Singing along, belting out the lyrics, head bopping and shoulders shimmying, she is in absolute denial and avoidance of any negative, anxious thought that might try to pop into her head. It works perfectly, until it doesn’t—the moment she turns onto his road.
Everly wonders why someone like Asim would want to be with her anyways. She’s boring. She works in an office, has no hobbies besides reading and sitting at thecoffee shop, and barely has a personality, unless you count crippling anxiety. Everly braces herself for the likelihood that she will be dismissed, rejected, that he doesn’t want to see her and doesn’t care for her like she does him. Luckily, she manages to stay away from any thoughts more dire than that.
When Everly is close enough to see the greenhouse though, her mouth falls open and she gapes at the sight. Everything in her freezes, her body failing to respond to the signals her brain is sending, and she nearly sends the car careening off the side of the road. She overcorrects, wrenching the steering wheel the opposite direction, and a car behind her lays on the horn.
Everly makes it to the empty parking lot and parks haphazardly in the middle, her whole body trembling. Her mouth is dry, mind blank, and she feels like her heart fell out on the road and got ran over, twice. She can’t even speak, she’s just mouthing the word “what” over and over, trying to comprehend what she’s seeing.
The building is gone. Glaring yellow caution tape surrounds what used to be the main sales area, the part of the building Asim lived above. All of it is gone. Instead, she’s faced with charred rubble. Black, soot stained beams, piles of debris, and endless ash.
She can’t fully grasp what she’s seeing. Everly hesitantly turns the engine off and steps out, not even fully closing the car door behind her. How did she not hear about this? How did Frankie not hear about this and tell her? The rumor mill in their town is wild, and Everly is kicking herself for being such a recluse and hogging all of Frankie’s time the last couple days. Maybe if she hadn’t, she would have heard something and been here sooner.
She walks toward the remains, a few scorched beams still standing, one blackened wall along the back right corner, but the rest of the structure is crumbled and incinerated on the ground.
It smells like a bonfire, and she hates it. That’s not how Magnolia Nursery is supposed to smell.
Realizing she’s still gaping, Everly snaps her mouth closed and looks around, searching for Asim. She doesn’t see him anywhere, but there’s a canopy set up to theright side of the building’s remains, a camp chair and folding table underneath it.
She convinces her feet to walk in that direction, heart in her throat and dreading what or who she will find—and who she won’t. As she gets closer, someone rounds the blackened corner, and her breath catches, moisture flooding her eyes.
Asim.
Everly freezes in place, afraid to move and shatter the image of him, alive and well. He’s talking on the phone and hasn’t seen her yet. She only catches snippets of what he’s saying as he walks closer, eyes on the ground and one hand shoved into his hair. It sounds like maybe a claims or insurance company, something about the property and its value. When he hangs up, he walks under the canopy and drops his phone on the folding table, falling into the chair. She watches, a lump forming in her throat as he leans forward, forearms on his knees, hands clenching together with his head dropped low, and Everly’s heart breaks.
She forces herself to step closer, when Moose, who she hadn’t noticed lying tethered beneath the table, picks his head up and whines plaintively, his big brown eyes meeting hers. Asim’s head snaps up, eyes finding her instantly, and time lurches forward. She rushes to him as he stands; she wants to run into his arms, but despite the relief radiating from him at seeing her, he seems unsure. Of what, she doesn’t know, but it makes her hesitate.
Everly stops in front of him instead, just under the canopy overhang, and searches his face. His beard is longer than normal, unkempt, and his hair is disheveled, likely from constantly running his hands through it. There are dark circles under his eyes, but no cuts or burns. Her eyes scan him from head to toe, searching for hidden injuries.
Finding none, she releases the breath she was holding.
“You’re okay.” She breathes out, relief flooding her veins.
Asim clears his throat, swallowing hard before replying. “I’m okay.” His voice is hoarse, and his eyes flick behind her to Moose. She turns, crouching down to see him under the table, and then gasps in shock, fallingbackward onto the ground.