roses and realizations; 28

Part 28: Roses and Realizations

Clara knelt in the soft, dark soil of the sprawling rose garden, her fingers gently untangling a thorny stem that had caught on Audrey's dress. The garden was lush and vibrant, the air thick with the scent of blooming roses in every shade of red, pink, and white. Clara had found this place in the far reaches of the hotel grounds—a rare, serene escape from the chaos of Hell.

Audrey sat on the grass nearby, her tiny hooves dangling as she leaned forward to touch the petals of a fully bloomed rose. Her eyes gleamed with wonder, their crimson hue sparkling like gems in the sunlight that filtered through the twisted branches above.

"These are so pretty!" Audrey exclaimed, her voice full of childlike awe. "Do they taste good?"

Clara chuckled softly. "No, sweetie. These are for looking, not eating."

Audrey tilted her head, considering the rose again before pulling her hand back. "Oh... okay!"

Clara watched her for a moment, her heart aching with a bittersweet mix of love and guilt. "You like flowers, huh?"

Audrey nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh! They're all red and pretty! Like Daddy's coat."

Clara smiled faintly, brushing her hands on her skirt as she sat beside Audrey. "Well, I'm glad you like them. I used to love roses when I was... younger."

Audrey turned to look at her, her small face scrunching up in thought. "Mommy, do you—"

Clara froze. The word hung in the air, soft but unmistakable.

"W-What did you call me?" she stammered, her heart racing.

Audrey blinked, her expression innocent. "Mommy?"

Clara's chest tightened, and her throat felt dry. "Do... do you know what that means?"

Audrey tilted her head again, the question clearly puzzling her. "Um... is it like... a really nice name?"

Clara let out a shaky breath, her eyes welling up despite herself. "Yes, sweetie. It's... it's a very nice name."

Audrey grinned, pleased with her answer. "Then you're Mommy! I like it!"

Clara's smile wavered, a tear slipping down her cheek as she reached out to pull Audrey into her arms. She held her close, the little girl's warmth filling a void Clara hadn't realized was so deep.

"Thank you," Clara whispered, her voice trembling.

"For what?" Audrey asked, her voice muffled against Clara's blouse.

"For... letting me be here with you."

As they sat there, surrounded by the beauty of the rose garden, Clara felt a flicker of something she hadn't felt in years—hope.

But her peace was short-lived.

"Clara."

The voice cut through the tranquility like a blade, smooth and low with a dangerous edge. Clara turned, her arms tightening instinctively around Audrey as she met Alastor's piercing gaze.

He stood at the edge of the garden, his crimson suit immaculate as ever, though his grin lacked its usual charm.

"Hand her over," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Clara hesitated, glancing down at Audrey, who was obliviously fiddling with a fallen petal. "Alastor, I—"

"Now," he snapped, stepping closer.

Reluctantly, Clara released Audrey, watching as the little girl skipped toward her father without a care in the world.

Alastor knelt to meet Audrey's eye level, his grin returning as he gently brushed a stray curl from her face. "Did you have fun, my dear?"

Audrey beamed. "Uh-huh! Mommy showed me the flowers!"

His smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make Clara flinch.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his tone dangerously light. "Well, wasn't that... sweet."

Clara stepped forward, her voice firm. "She's my daughter too, Alastor."

He straightened, his grin sharp and unyielding as he turned to face her. "Yes, Clara. And that's precisely why you'll leave now, before you confuse her any further."

She opened her mouth to argue, but his glare silenced her.

With a heavy heart, Clara stepped back, her hands trembling as she watched Alastor take Audrey's hand and lead her away.

As they disappeared into the shadows, Clara sank to her knees among the roses, her heart breaking all over again.