“Call me. We can talk more about Circe, about this place, or maybe something else altogether.” Before I had a chance to respond, she swept out of the room, glancing back to look me square in the eye. “Bye, Briseis.”

The way she said my name sent a flood of warmth through me—and not the kind that brought flowers to bloom. She disappeared down the hall. Not a minute later, my parents were standing in front of me.

“Spill it,” said Mo. “Who was that? And why was she lookin’ at you like that?”

“She said she was gonna pay you a hundred dollars for some seeds?” Mom looked extremely concerned. “What kind of seeds? Opium? Kids gettin’ high out here in the sticks?”

“What? No. It’s—it’s plants.” I needed to let them in on at least some of what was happening so they didn’t worry. “Circe and Selene were running an apothecary. We figured that, but the thing is, they were growing and harvesting everything themselves in that garden I told you about.”

“And there are already people willing to pay money for this stuff?” Mo scanned the shelves.

“That’s why random people have been showing up,” I said. “The place has been closed for a while, but now that word has gotten around that we’re here, I think people are hoping we’ll reopen it.”

“Will we?” Mom asked. She turned to me. “You want to do this?”

It wasn’t that I wanted to do it. I felt like I was supposed to. The only thing I’d ever been really good at in my life was the one thing these random people needed me to do. It wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t have been. “I want to try and reopen the apothecary. I’ll take care of the plots and see if I can bring back the plants. We could run it like the shop back home. Maybe you can help me figure out the business side?”

Mom sighed. “It might be similar, but it’s still a business. It’s a lot of work.”

Mo looked thoughtful. “We’re not paying rent for the space, and the inventory would be whatever you’re growing in the garden, right?”

“I’d grow everything myself,” I said. “We’d only have to pay for bags, maybe labels, but that’s it.”

“And you’re not worried about, you know, the way it makes you feel?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. “Not if I don’t try so hard to control it. When I let go, it’s easier.”

Mo smiled. “Startup costs would be nothing. It’d be almost one hundred percent profit. I think we’d have to steer clear of making promises about what this stuff can and can’t do for legal reasons, but other than that, I think it’s doable.”