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Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Things We Trust
Tanggal publikasi:
2026-11-10 07:15:57
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The Plants Know What You Did Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Things We Trust
Tuesday morning, Reginald informed me that I was being unreasonable.“You cannot make the laboratory work faster by staring at your telephone.”I looked up from my desk. “I wasn’t staring.”“You have checked it eleven times.”“That’s an exaggeration.”“Twelve.”I put the phone facedown. Reginald rustled with satisfaction.I had arrived at the nursery early, partly because a shipment of rare orchids was due and partly because sleeping had become an increasingly theoretical activity.Rebecca Shaw had spent the night at her sister’s house. She’d sent a brief message that morning saying she felt a little better, although she was still tired.Her doctor had promised to call when the initial bloodwork was available. The laboratory was working on the samples. Everyone was doing what they were supposed to do. Unfortunately, patience had never been my strongest quality.“Water,” Reginald observed.I glanced at him. “Do you need some?”“You do.”I looked at my untouched water bottle. “Are you a
The Plants Know What You Did Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Second Glass
By Monday morning, I had developed a deep personal dislike of the phrase "probably nothing."It was a perfectly reasonable phrase under ordinary circumstances. A yellow leaf on a healthy plant was probably nothing. A strange noise from the greenhouse heater was probably nothing, although I generally preferred to check before making that declaration.A woman experiencing weeks of worsening dizziness and nausea while her houseplants appeared to be suffering from an unidentified chemical exposure deserved considerably more attention. Unfortunately, Rebecca Shaw’s husband apparently disagreed.I knew this because Rebecca called at eight fifteen, sounding as though she was trying very hard not to cry.“I’m sorry to bother you so early.”“Rebecca, you’re not bothering me. Is everything all right?”“I wanted to ask whether you’ve learned anything about the water.”“Not yet. I’m arranging testing today.”She sighed. “My husband thinks I’m making a fool of myself.”I set down my coffee. “Why?”
The Plants Know What You Did Chapter Thirty-Six: A Bitter Taste
By Sunday morning, the peace lily had decided that I was an acceptable person. This was a significant improvement over yesterday, when it had accused me of trying to poison it.“Better,” it whispered as I examined its leaves.“I’m glad.”“No bitter.”“That’s because I haven’t given you any of the water you were complaining about.”The plant rustled. “Good.”I’d removed the most damaged leaves and carefully flushed the remaining soil with clean water before allowing it to drain. The plant was still stressed, but its roots had begun to recover.I made another note on my clipboard. “Hopefully, we’ll figure out what happened.”“Home bad,” the peace lily murmured.I stopped writing. “What do you mean?”“Bitter water. Home bad.”I frowned. “Is it always bad at home?”The leaves shifted. “Sometimes. Sometimes sweet.”I considered that. “Sweet?”“Good water. Then bitter.”That was interesting. The plant seemed to distinguish between different watering events. If Rebecca had been using the sam
The Plants Know What You Did Chapter Thirty-Five: Something in the Water
Saturday morning began with a peace lily accusing me of attempted murder.“Bad water!”I stopped beside the recovery bench. “Good morning to you, too.”“Bitter! Burning!”“I haven’t watered you yet.”“No more!”I sighed and set down my coffee. The peace lily Rebecca Shaw had brought in yesterday looked considerably less cheerful than it had when she arrived. Several leaves drooped over the edge of the pot, and a yellow patch had spread across one of the larger fronds.I’d isolated it from the other plants and replaced the saucer beneath its container. I hadn’t watered it again, partly because the soil was already damp and partly because the plant seemed determined to hold me personal
The Plants Know What You Did Chapter Thirty-Four: The Things We Leave Behind
Friday mornings at the nursery were usually predictable. We received deliveries, prepared weekend displays, and dealt with customers who had spent the previous evening watching gardening videos and developed ambitious plans that bore little resemblance to their available space.Today, Noah was attempting to explain why a customer couldn’t grow a mature apple tree in a twelve-inch decorative pot. “Technically,” he said, “you could put it in there.”I stopped beside the register. “Noah.”He glanced at me. “What?”“Please finish that sentence.”He sighed. “But it would be a terrible idea.”“Thank you.”The customer looked disappointed. “I saw someone do it online.”“Was it a bonsai?” I asked.She considered that. “Maybe.”I smiled and guided her toward our dwarf fruit trees. By the time we’d found a suitable option, Noah had reorganized the outdoor display and Gerald the skeleton was wearing a scarf.I stared at him. “Why?”Noah looked offended. “It’s cold.”“He doesn’t have skin.”“Exac
The Plants Know What You Did Chapter Thirty-Three: The Man Who Paid
The first thing I did Friday morning was call my mother. This was a mistake.Not because I didn’t love my mother. I loved her dearly. But Elaine Faylan had a remarkable ability to turn a perfectly ordinary conversation into an interrogation, and I had already endured more than my share of those lately.“Good morning, sweetheart.”“Morning, Mom.”“Everything all right?”“Yes. I was wondering if you and Dad wanted to come over for dinner Sunday.”“Oh, that sounds lovely.”“Great. I’ll make lasagna.”“Will Adrian be there?”I closed my eyes. “Mom.”“What?”“I&rsqu
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