The sale had been bittersweet. That shop had been my baby, my first real accomplishment after college. I’d started it with a small inheritance from my grandmother and built it into something the whole community treasured. But after a decade and a half of early mornings at the flower market, endless wedding consultations, and the constant worry about seasonal fluctuations, I was ready for a change.

The money from the sale sat in my savings account like a promise of freedom. Not a fortune, but enough to take my time figuring out what came next. Maybe I’d travel. Maybe I’d go back to school. Maybe I’d