EIGHTEEN

KATE'S POV:

The back garden was tucked away behind tall hedges, a quieter, more secluded part of the estate that looked like it had been forgotten for years.

As we walked around the mansion and came upon it, I noticed the wildness of the place. Vines snaked up the stone walls, and weeds had claimed most of the flowerbeds. The sun was brighter here, casting long shadows across the overgrown greenery. It was the kind of space that begged for attention, and oddly enough, I felt excited by the challenge.

How come Della didn't tell that a place like this exist, I could have spent my time here more than spending it in the mansion doing nothing.

Aunt Leda stepped in first, her straw hat tilted slightly to the side, eyes scanning the area. "Oh, this place has potential. It just needs a little love, and it would turn out beautiful." she said, clapping her gloved hands together.

I smiled and followed after her, the soft earth crunching beneath my feet. Evelyn trailed behind, quieter than usual but not in her usual guarded way. Her eyes were wide as she took in the garden. There was a different energy around her, something softer.

Her guard was still up, and I seriously don't blame her for that. Now I feel so bad for calling her a witch in my head.

"Looks like the weeds won the war here," I joked, grabbing a pair of shears from the gardening basket Aunt Leda had carried out with her.

Evelyn surprised me with a small chuckle. "It looks like they threw a party too, and it was a blast."

I turned toward her and smiled. It was the first time she’d joked back with me. She was warming up to me, and still studying me.

We got to work, starting from the far left corner. Aunt Leda had a small speaker playing soft classical music, which filled the air with a calm rhythm.

It reminded me of the Sundays I used to spend with my mom before she got sick, cleaning the house, baking cookies, or gardening while music filled the background.

Back then, I didn't even know Dad was my father. It was just two of us and I kind of loved it, and I didn't even bother about asking for Dad, because she felt enough to me.

Even after Mum fell ill, we did gardening twice a week, and danced to her favorite songs whilst cooking and cleaning. She was one strong woman.

I blocked our the memories that were flooding in and I started pulling at the thickest cluster of weeds, careful not to disturb the roots of what appeared to be daffodils buried underneath.

The silence between the three of us wasn’t uncomfortable, it was focused, purposeful. But after a few minutes, Aunt Leda spoke.

"Eve, I remember when you were ten and wanted to plant a cactus garden," she said, grinning as she tugged a stubborn root. "You filled the whole balcony with pots, and then forgot to water them. I kept on reminding you to go water them and you always keep on forgetting."

Evelyn let out a short laugh. "They were cacti, Mum. I thought they didn’t need water. I thought they just thrived out on their own."

"Not no water," Aunt Leda teased.

I laughed too. "Well, she wasn’t wrong. Cacti are low maintenance."

Evelyn looked at me, surprised maybe that I’d taken her side. She offered a soft smile. That one gesture felt like a breakthrough. Her smile was as beautiful as Aunt's Leda.

They both shared huge similarities. And it feels so good to watch both of them.

"Did you ever garden with your mom?" Evelyn asked me quietly.

I paused, brushing sweat from my forehead with the back of my glove. "All the time. She had this small patch behind our house with lilies roses, and violets. We’d spend hours out there, even when she got sick. She said being in the dirt made her feel alive. We had such wonderful times together."

Evelyn nodded slowly. "That sounds... nice. Mom here, likes the garden too, she tends to it all the time back at home. And I just watch her from my room window. She said it was the perfect spot for her to grow them so I could watch how beautiful they bloom."

We worked in silence again, pulling weeds, tilling the soil, gathering dead leaves into a bag. I caught Evelyn glancing at me occasionally. Not with suspicion this time, but with a kind of curiosity.

I don't know if she was reading my reactions to things and trying to understand me.

She kneeled beside me, her hands brushing against the earth as she cleared a patch of weeds. "I'm not very good at this, you know. Gardening. I like order. Clean lines. Gardens are... messy. Mom likes it though, she says it makes the environment more beautiful."

"Yeah, but that’s the beauty of it," I said. "You make sense out of the mess. It’s kind of therapeutic."

Aunt Leda chimed in, "Gardens are like people, Evelyn. A bit wild, a bit broken, but with care, they bloom, and when they bloom they'll turn out so beautiful."

We spent the next hour raking and prepping the soil. Aunt Leda moved between us, helping Evelyn identify weed roots and showing me how to compost the clippings.

We drank cold lemonade under the shaded tree in the corner of the garden when the sun hit its peak. Della had brought them for us through another maid that I couldn't get her name.

During the break, Evelyn spoke again. "I used to think people like you were pretending."

I looked at her, puzzled. "People like me? What do you mean?"

"Smiling all the time. Being nice. Saying the right things. I thought it was all an act. Nobody is perfect, but you- you manage to say the right thing, do the right thing, smile all the time and be all perfect."

I tilted my head. "And now, what do you think?"

She hesitated. "Now, I think maybe... you’re just honest. Maybe you’re actually that kind. And I don’t know how to deal with that. It's just I've met so many people that just pretend to say the nice things, be kind, be enchanting while they're far from that."

"They fake it all so they can get something in return or use you to their advantage." She continued.

I blinked, a little stunned. Evelyn had always come off as reserved, sharp-eyed, maybe a little cold. But this? This was raw and real. I was getting to know her on another level, getting to understand her better.

"I get it," I said gently. "It's hard to let people in. I’m not always nice, by the way. I have my bad days too. But I try to be kind. Especially when I know what pain feels like. I try not to get on people's bad side, and I also try not to be rude to people, not because I want them to see me as being nice. But because I want them to be able to know what the act of kindness feels like."

She gave a small nod. "Pain makes some people build walls. Makes them do, say or act in a crazy manner."

"And others plant gardens," I finished.

We shared a quiet look.

The second half of the day went by faster. With Evelyn and Aunt Leda beside me, the garden began to take shape. The weeds were mostly gone, the soil smooth and ready for planting. We outlined patches for lavender, daisies, and tulips.

As I smoothed out one section of earth, Evelyn came beside me with a small box.

"Seeds," she said. "I found them in the storage. They’re labeled. Thought we could start with these."

I opened the box and smiled. Pansies, forget-me-nots, and marigolds.

"Perfect," I said.

She knelt beside me and handed me one packet. Our fingers brushed. Neither of us flinched.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, turning golden, Aunt Leda stood up and stretched. "I think we did good today, girls. Real good. Before the end of the month, these flowers will bloom and be so beautiful."

I looked around at the cleared, freshly prepped garden. It was no longer abandoned. It had hope written all over it. Aunt Leda was right, giving it a little hope did save it.

Evelyn sat back and brushed her dirty hands on her trousers. She looked tired, but relaxed. At peace.

"We should keep doing this," she said.

"We will," I replied. "This is just the beginning."

For the first time since I arrived here, I felt like I belonged. Like I actually did something meaningful, Not the kinds that I did to earn praises from stepmother which never came.

Or the kind that made Father get me presents and all that. This felt so different, and it was the good kind of different.

Not just because of the garden.

But because Evelyn had let her guard down. She had gotten to understand my kind of person, and I have gotten to understand her.

Because maybe, just maybe, we weren’t pretending anymore.