Wild Girl ✔️

chapter 12: fighter

Rose

My hand shook as I knocked on the wooden door. Just as I was about to turn around and head back, it creaked open and Merelda's head stuck out slowly. Her stare alone had me already regretting coming here.

"The flower is back," was all she said, her pale eyes latching onto mine.

This was going to be fun. "I need to speak to you.

"About the boy?" I nodded slowly. She opened the door all the way, her small frame standing off to the side of the doorway. "Come in," she grimaced, exposing her yellow teeth.

As I stepped into Merelda's cabin, I immediately realized that maybe this wasn't exactly the greatest idea I ever had.

Or the safest.

Walking into her cabin was like being transported back to mine. They were identical — from the paint on the walls, the furniture taking up the small space and right down to the carpet covering the floor. Except, hers had the lingering scent of dried flowers.

The door slammed shut and I jumped, my hand flying over my heart. Merelda chuckled at my dishevelment as she walked towards the couch. I watched her, her long, grey hair swaying behind her, as I crossed my arms awkwardly over my chest.

She gestured at the chair adjacent to the couch. "Sit," she commanded. I obeyed without hesitation. "You are here. Tell me why."

I chewed nervously on my lip. "The last time we spoke, you seemed to know a lot about Sebastian and I... How?"

"I hear things."

I needed to aim for specificity or this was going nowhere quick. "How did you know my name?"

"I hear things," she repeated.

"What kind of things?" Annoyance had crept its way into my words.

Merelda shrugged, her long fingers curling around a strand of hair. "Words carried by the wind. Words murmured in the trees. I hear it all," her voice was light, carrying through the cabin without a care in the world.

Okay, so she wants to do this the hard way. I forced myself to smile and not throw something across the room. "What do you know about Sebastian?" I asked, trying a new tactic.

Now, Merelda laughed. Her laugh sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I sat there for minutes waiting, growing increasingly uncomfortable, before it subsided and she was ready to speak again.

"He is troubled. Sad. Like myself, he hears the words whispered between the trees."

My eyebrows raised in confusion. "He's like you? What does that mean? What whispers?"

Merelda's pale eyes narrowed. "Ask him."

"He won't tell me!" I sighed in frustration, running my sweaty palms against my jeans. "I'm sorry. He's ...hiding something. I just want to know what it is. You said that I was his newest flower. What does that mean?"

"Violet," she answered. Was that supposed to mean something to me?

"He likes violets?"

Merelda grinned. "Very much. Roses, too."

Great, so Sebastian's secret was that he's a florist. I rolled my eyes as I took a deep breath to suppress the scream itching at my throat. Violets, I forced myself to think about this harder. Roses. A name and a flower. What if ...

"Violet is a person," I breathed.

She's another flower.

Merelda's grin grew. "You're half right."