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Confession No. 5 – The Red Room Beneath the Florist

last update Last Updated: 2025-06-24 18:49:37
It all started with a bouquet.

White roses. Lilies. A black orchid at the centre, velvety and deliberate.

There was no note at first, just the silence that came with something beautiful you didn’t ask for.

I had been designing centrepieces for a wedding shoot, buried in deadlines and mood boards, when the delivery arrived. The delivery boy said only this:

“It’s from The Still Bloom.”

I frowned. “That’s not one of my suppliers.”

He just smiled and left.

When I leaned in to smell the petals, I found the card.

Cream parchment. Handwritten script.

“Say yes. Let go. I’ve seen what you really need. – E”

I should have thrown it away.

I didn’t.

Invitation

That night, I searched The Still Bloom.

No website. Just a single G****e listing with a phone number and a cryptic note: “By appointment only.”

I called. A male voice answered.

“Amira.”

I froze. “How do you?”

“You came looking. You’re curious. That’s the first rule: curiosity will lead you to places fear never dares.”

My vo
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