𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 (𝔼𝕟)

When a place calls to you, all you can do is listen to it and be welcomed into that scent of burning familiarity.
Despite the arguments with my sister, who had taken me with her to the city, to that dark and macabre room, which I will never want to resee just one more time ; I wanted to return to our little cottage in the country, where everything began.
I was aware that memories would come back, with an even sharper blade, but that was the place I wanted to stay, it was my refuge, my home.
I have resumed family traditions by reopening our little flower store and together with a wise hand, my grandmother, I am slowly managing to make the beautiful moments of my childhood flourish again, making them reality this time.
But not only are those moments returning as they once were, but familiar faces are also slowly reappearing one after one.