The backyard of the Gray residence was a garden.Inside, Alvina planted all kinds of rare flowers for her perfumery.She usually tended to them with great care, almost as if she were raising children.As Alvina rushed downstairs, countless possibilities flashed through her mind. Could Wendy have resented her for tampering with the perfume and instructed Lily to pick her flowers?But when she reached the scene, she realized the situation was far worse than she imagined.Lily had done far more than pick her flowers. She set fire to her garden.The rare flowers Alvina spent three years planting had already been swallowed by the flames and reduced to nothing.Datura, rosemary, black roses, cardamom, geranium, clary sage—everything she could name and everything she could not had turned into charred, withered branches, lying scattered across the ground like the aftermath of a silent massacre.Lily stood off to the side, wailing loudly.Through her sobs, she kept apologizing. “I’m sorry, Al
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