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Yellow daisies grew near the path.
Mary walked over.
Bent down.
Picked one.
“You probably aren’t supposed to do that.”
She grinned.
“Call security.”
Later, lying in her hospital bed—
she tucked the flower inside a book.
I had forgotten about it.
Until Ethan held that exact flower in front of me on graduation day.
My hands trembled.
“Where did you get this?”
Ethan looked down.
“Mary gave it to me.”
I stared.
“What?”
By then—
the laughter around us had started dying.
ETHAN OPENED ANOTHER FOLD OF THE TISSUE
A note.
Small.
Folded.