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Chapter 77

"Positive." Ariel’s voice was steady, though her mind teemed with unrest.

The monk eyed her suspiciously as she brushed past him into the room. "How positive is positive?"

She shot a sharp glance over her shoulder. "Positive, Leroy."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine... but you seem awfully distracted."

"Coffee, monk," Ariel demanded, dropping heavily onto the couch, grateful for once that someone else was making it.

"Yes, Jasper," Leroy quipped, moving toward the small counter with an exaggerated stride. Ariel rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at her lips.

The room felt strangely empty with just the two of them. Usually, the faint clacking of Max’s keyboard filled the air, and his computers hummed like a subtle heartbeat. Now, there was silence save for the low bubbling of the kettle and the rhythmic creaks of Leroy moving about. Across from her, the couch stood vacant, missing Mandy and her ever-present mask... and Jasper. But for once, Ariel found solace in his absence, if only because it meant she didn’t have to be the one on coffee duty.

"So," Leroy began, interrupting the stillness as he set the water to heat, "about this dream. You had it last night?"

Ariel turned her gaze toward the far corner of the room where sunlight streamed in through a window, casting golden beams across the worn floor. The warmth of the light reached the small table in front of her, illuminating something new—a vase filled with an explosion of white magnolias. Her breath caught in her throat.

Magnolias?

Ariel’s thoughts raced. Who would have placed them here? Everyone knew she was allergic, yet there they stood—a blooming display of the delicate, dangerous flowers. The concern prickled at the edge of her consciousness but was quickly overshadowed by another thought.

Taylor received a moon magnolia.

She leaned forward slightly, peering over the back of the couch as Leroy prepared their drinks.

"Leroy," she called as he approached with a tray in hand.

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He raised an eyebrow as he set her coffee cup in front of her. "Oh, finally decided to answer me then?"

Ariel took the steaming cup, cradling it in her hands. "Sorry, did you ask something?"

"I was trying to get details on your dream," he said, taking a seat beside her, "but I’m beginning to think you never woke from it."

She sighed, her eyes flicking back to the vase of flowers. "I’ll tell you everything, but first, you have to answer me this." She met his gaze, her expression unreadable.

Leroy took a careful sip of his coffee. "Shoot."

"You gave your moon magnolia to Taylor, didn’t you?"

The question was met with an immediate choking sound as Leroy spluttered into his cup. Ariel smiled smugly, watching him struggle for composure. "So I am right," she said, sounding remarkably like him when he pressed her for answers.

Leroy wiped his mouth, giving her a glare. "I don’t know who’s been filling your head with nonsense, but I’ve never given Taylor anything."

Ariel set her cup down, folding her arms across her chest. "Liar. She received one. If it wasn’t you, then who?"

"Max, probably," Leroy muttered, though the look on his face betrayed him.

Ariel’s smirk deepened. "Wise Obasan said Max hadn’t given anyone a moon magnolia. It was you, Leroy. Own up."

"It wasn’t me," he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction. "Maybe Jasper—he’s always giving stuff away."

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the mention of Jasper, but she didn’t let it distract her. "This isn’t about me. It’s about you and why you left Taylor that magnolia."

"This is about your dream," Leroy interjected swiftly, steering the conversation back on track. "You promised. Now spill."

Ariel frowned, recognizing that she wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of him—at least not right now. Resigned, she leaned back against the couch and let her thoughts drift to the mysterious vase of magnolias.

"It’s kind of vague," she began cautiously, still trying to figure out how to leave Mr. Marlowe out of the retelling.

"That’s fine," Leroy encouraged, "tell me what you remember."

Ariel traced the rim of her coffee cup absentmindedly. "I was in the theater... It was night. I was standing in that hall we visited yesterday."

Leroy leaned forward, his coffee forgotten. "So, we’re on the right track with the picture, then?"

"I think so," she nodded. "Especially since I found myself... drawn to a certain photo."

"Really?" His eyes gleamed with interest. "Which one?"

Ariel hesitated, the image of Mr. Marlowe staring at his daughter’s empty frame still fresh in her mind. "The blank one, Leroy."

His expression darkened as realization dawned. "Miss Marlowe’s?"

"Yes," Ariel sighed, setting her cup down. "But it gets weirder."

"Weirder how?" Leroy pressed.

"The name plate... her name plate... it just... fell off. And behind it, there was another name. Becca Marlowe."

Leroy sat up straighter, surprise etched across his features. "Another name? Do you think it’s connected to the picture?"

Ariel stood, pacing the room as she wrestled with the question. "I’m not sure. But it feels like... like something’s missing. Some connection we’re not seeing."

Leroy set down his cup, rising to meet her gaze. "Well, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s go see for ourselves."