Page 9 of When Night Falls

He called the color of my hair a contradiction in comparison to what he thinks he can sense I carry within.Insert eye roll emoji here.But it’s funny really, because my name is also just as much a facade as any.

Lucynda carries the meaning oflight. Draven, my middle name, though an odd one, to me it’s more fitting, meanschild of shadows. Okay, it actually meanschild of beautiful shadowsbut really, there’s nothing beautiful about the shadows that I was born with. Did my mother know what she was naming me when she chose it? Did she purposefully intend to make a mockery out of who I am by giving me some cryptic name?

My thoughts are interrupted as the officer hands me back my ID and tells me that nothing more is needed. So, I stuff my ID back into my bag and turn on my heel to exit, not loving the way she looks at me in annoyance as if she wants to tell me that I’ve wasted my time to begin with.

“Have a great day!” I say way too cheerfully and extremely awkward as I wave my hand at her and head for the door.

I have just a few minutes before I need to open the bookstore, so I decide to walk over to Beans and Blooms, the half flower shop, half coffee shop directly across the street from…

“There’s a line?”I whisper to myself as I look across the street to see a line form of at least ten people, waiting outside of my bookstore.

I’ve never had a line before, let alone at opening. The store usually doesn't get more than ten peoplein a day. I’m not dying for the business, but this looks like a good change in pace which I could definitely use as a distraction right now.

“Can I help you?” The young lady in front of me looks to be high school-aged.

“Can I get a medium brown sugar latte please? Hot.” I give her my order and debit card to pay for the drink.

I move my eyes back out the window to see people patiently waiting for me to open the doors. Excitement bubbles inside me, wondering what kind of day today might be but then I feel anxious at the thought that maybe something bad is going on in order to cause the line at my store.

I turn my attention away not wanting to be pessimistic about anything else and wander over toward the Blooms side of the shop. Florals rest in buckets of water and some are even displayed in bouquets beautifully placed on glass tables. Plants also hang from the ceiling and DIY flowerpots rest against the windowsill.

I approach the bouquets that are set on the round tables to my left and see the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. I know nothing about plants or florals so I can’t for the life of me name them, but they aren’t your ordinary bright assortment. They’re rather moody, like the color scheme of this town. Though still blooming beautifully, the dark maroons and velvet burgundy flowers mix eloquently with the burnt orange daisies. And the dusty pink ones accent the dark green leaves like I’ve never seen before.

Just then, as I’m examining the florals in front of me, something darker catches my eye. I turn my head to see a wall full of singular black roses placed beautifully in a row on a wood trellis up against the wall.

The sudden burst of magic I was feeling takes a dive into my stomach and sours. But not without creating a buzz of adrenaline first. I approach the wall and take a black petal between my thumb and index finger, smoothing the texturebetween my fingers. It’s soft.So fucking soft.Almost as if it were made of velvet snow, tainted with the color of deadly secrets.

I hear movement behind me, and it strikes the idea that maybe I can find out who had purchased black roses lately. Maybe I can narrow down who myshadowed admireris.

“Excuse me?” I walk toward the woman who is watering one of the plants nearby. “Can you by chance tell me if anyone has recently purchased any of these black roses in the last few weeks?”

The woman looks at me and gives me a sweet smile before agreeing and walking around to her computer.

She starts clicking away at her keyboard, her nod and smile give me hope that she found something useful. I hear my name being called from the other side of the shop where I see the barista place my coffee down. The scent of brown sugar and espresso mixes with that of the flowers and it creates a scent that warms my soul. Two things you wouldn't imagine actually smell divine together but with just the right amount of each component, it's the perfect scent for a rainy Friday like today.

I look back over to the worker helping me and see her pulling her lip between her teeth in disappointment.

“Sorry, miss. I actually can’t tell you who bought the black roses.” She shifts behind the desk and walks away.

“Wait. You can’t or you won’t?" I press, gracefully chasing after her, having been sure that she was about to tell me a list of names or something.

“Well…” She stops her footsteps back to her task before, lifts her head to the ceiling in an attempt to think over an answer but then, just like the police officer, comes up short. “Both?” She seems confused by her own answer which only frustrates me more.

I follow her around toward a basket of flowers, hearing my name get called again for the coffee on the bar. I look up to seethat the people in my line at the bookshop are getting impatient and I know that now I’m late opening the store.

“What does that mean?” I ask the woman again. “You were just about to tell me and then you stopped.”

“That’s because I am notallowedto tell you,” she explains without looking at me.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you have just said that to me instead of pretending like you were going to look for an answer?” I am getting more and more tetchy with her, following her around as she moves about.

“Lucynda, your coffee!” I hear my name getting hollered again and I get annoyed with that too. I’m the only customer in here right now and surely, she sees me across the room.

“Because…” She finally stands up straight to look at me. “I…” She looks down at our feet then back up. “Because I-” She’s trying to finish her sentence, but she keeps cutting herself off.

“Because why?” I press again, wanting to get anything I can out of her.

“I actually don’t know why I can’t tell you. All I know is that I can’t. Better go get that latte before it gets cold.” She nods over to the side of the shop, and I roll my eyes feeling really frustrated at the progress I’ve seemed to havenotmade.

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