She didn’t visit Holloway Manor right away. Deep down in her gut, she feared Lily’s story had been just that: a fairy tale to carry her through dark times. A fable to help her sleep at night. But Belle had never been one for pleasing lies, and by the end of the week, she decided to pay a visit to Raven’s estate during her lunch break. She snuck through the back gate. Crept up to the perfectly manicured garden and saw… a sea of white roses. No red sprung up among them, and no crimson petals dotted the ground, hinting at a recent pruning.

The red rose did not exist.

Belle started to cry then, big, blubbery tears that filled her with shame. She shouldn’t have wanted this. Shouldn’t have believed in magical roses or hearts that could be resurrected. Something inside her had died the night she’d watched Raven kiss Jack, and it would never come back to life.

She returned to Lily in a rage. Her friend was sitting in the common area, flipping through a magazine.

“How could you do that?” Belle hissed, sitting beside Lily on the patchwork couch. “How could you lie to me? I found your father for you, and I made sure he wanted to see you before I gave you his name.”

“You didn’t give me his name.” Lily hadn’t looked up from the page. Her voice was calm, unconcerned. “I stole it from you.”

“Fine, you stole it from me. You’re good at taking things and not giving back.”

“You’re right, I’m good at taking things.” Lily pushed off the couch. With a wave of her hand, she led Belle past the common area, down the hall, and through the open door of her room. The bed was unmade. The stack of magazines on the bedside table, arranged haphazardly. Beside the stack sat a vase, and rising up from the clear, elegant crystal was a crimson rose.

“Is that…” Belle approached the vase with caution, a softness rustling in her chest. “How did you—”

“My dad cut it for me. We’ve been emailing for months, and when he offered to come see me, I asked if he could sneak onto the estate and bring the red rose to me. He works the night shift at a plant nursery so he’s very good at keeping flowers alive. This one’s been here for almost a week.” Lily came up behind her, and Belle could feel her presence as strongly as she’d felt Raven’s absence in the months after he went away. “You’re lucky you came when you did. It’s starting to wilt.”

Here, Belle’s gaze dropped to the smattering of petals already on the table. Living things were so fragile. So quick to wither and die. What would happen to her when the last petal fell?