Chloe in Willowmere

The neighborhood returns in soft morning light, and with it comes the sort of mystery Chloe has learned Willowmere prefers: small, precise, and impossible to ignore. On the first doorstep she finds a single perfect flower laid carefully on the welcome mat, with no card, no ribbon, and no explanation at all. She crouches beside it with her blue notebook in hand and says, almost to herself, that it is strange, because strangeness in Willowmere has a way of meaning something. A little farther down the block she spots another flower waiting at another door, placed with the same quiet intention, and her attention sharpens into delight. By then she is no longer simply walking, she is investigating. Whatever message is moving through the neighborhood, it has chosen petals instead of words, and Chloe, who has just finished setting one question aside, feels another one open beautifully in its place.