Page 46 of Where the Roses Bloom
“She wrote these foryou,” I whispered, holding the bundle out.
Rhett didn’t take them right away. He stared, his brow drawn, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “What does that mean? ‘When she comes’?”
“I think…” I swallowed. “I think she meant me. I told you—witch.”
He finally reached for the letters, thumb brushing lightly over the ink. He didn’t open the top letter right away—just stood there holding it, staring at his name.
“When did she write these?” he asked, more to himself than me.
I stepped in close, peering down at the stack in his hands. The paper was thick, the kind you only used when you wanted something to last.
“Hazel always said she had dreams,” he murmured, thinking out loud. “She’d talk about ‘the other side of knowing.’ Like there were things she couldn’t explain but felt anyway.”
“You really think…”
His throat bobbed. “I really think she might have…she might have known something. You sure you’re ready for this?”
“No,” I said honestly. “But I think we already started. And whatever’s in those letters…I want to know.”
CHAPTER 16
Rhett
We came downthe attic stairs quiet.
Willow walked beside me, her fingers still wrapped in mine, the other hand curled protectively around that bundle of letters like she could feel the heat of Hazel’s words through the envelopes. I didn’t blame her. The weight of it settled between my ribs too—dense and humming.
We didn’t head to the kitchen or the porch or anywhere else that might distract from what we held. We went straight to the front room, the one Hazel always called the heart of the house. The lace curtains swayed a little with the breeze, casting slow-moving shadows across the floorboards.
I sank onto the couch and tugged Willow down beside me, pulling her in close without thinking. Her head fit against my shoulder like it belonged there.
For a moment, we just sat there. Breathing.
Then she tipped her head up toward me. “You wanna read them out loud?”
I nodded. My voice wouldn’t work yet, but my hands knew where to start.
I unwrapped the bundle again and pulled the top letterfree. The paper was stiff with age but still strong. I swallowed and started to read.
My dearest boy,
If you’re reading this, it means she’s come. The woman I saw in my dreams, the one the roses spoke of. The one who changes everything.
I know you don’t believe in curses—not really. Not the way I did. But love is older than any curse, and she is the proof. I don’t know her name. I only know how she made me feel when I saw her: like the world was turning the right way again.
You’ll try to protect her. Of course you will. You’ve always carried too much on those shoulders. But she doesn’t need saving, baby. She needs someone to stand beside her. Someone who’ll walk into the dark and let her light the way out.
Let her. Trust her. And when the time comes…don’t be afraid to follow her lead. She’s not just yours—she’s ours. She belongs to this land. She’s the bloom that breaks our curse.
My throat locked up.
Willow didn’t say anything, but her hand moved against my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.
I closedmy eyes.
Hazel had known. Not just about the curse—but about her. About us.
About what this love would mean.
