Every night at 2 a.m., she buys one flower — for someone else's grief.
Your late aunt left you her little flower shop in a steep, sun-bleached hill town, along with an ancient
cat, a ledger of flower meanings, and one strange rule: stay open until 3 a.m. Someone will come.
At exactly 2 a.m., she does. A quiet woman in a grey coat, with cold hands and no reflection in the window, buys one
flower every night — each for a different stranger's grief. Learn the language of flowers, tend a town's quiet
sorrows, and find out who she is, and what it would take to make her stay.
