Two years ago, there hadn’t been a school in Islesford.
Reverend Chamberlain had attempted to establish one for the village children, but the half-hearted village council dismissed his efforts time and again. Things only changed after a train station was built in Rodertown and the city expanded, bringing a population surge to the neighboring village of Islesford. Suddenly, a school was no longer optional—it was necessary.
The residents of Islesford sent their children to the new school, which offered free, quality education. Even the Fannings, who had too many children to afford private tutors, sent theirs there.
“I wish you’d come to school too, Edmund.”
Seated on the porch steps tying her shoes, Rose looked up at Edmund, who was staring at her wordlessly.
The girl who used to run barefoot like a wild child had started changing since attending school. Rose now braided her hair each morning, swapped her worn trousers for dresses and aprons, and no longer refused to wear shoes. Clutching her lunchbox and hat, she left the beechwood house each morning with a newfound sense of purpose.
She enjoyed school that much—enough to endure things she’d hated doing her entire life.
Edmund scowled, twisting his lips.
“What could you possibly learn from incompetent teachers and brainless classmates?”
Unbothered, Rose gave a little shrug.
“I’m not there to study. I’m just going to have fun.”
“Is that supposed to be admirable? No wonder you failed every subject. How did you even manage to come home after getting your report card? If I were you, I would’ve drowned myself in the Malthus River out of shame.”
Rose’s fingers slipped on her shoelaces at the sharp insult. A week ago, she’d taken a pop quiz and failed every subject—something the whole family now knew. Even her parents, who never fussed over grades, had been visibly flustered.
Her father’s awkward attempt at consolation still lingered in her heart.
“Don’t worry, Rose. Girls don’t need to be smart. It’s not like it’ll do them any good.”
After that, Rose gave up. What else could she do? Some people were just born incompatible with studying. Accepting that truth and giving up early saved her from any crushing disappointment.
She stood, picking up the lunch her nanny had packed. Edmund was already walking ahead beneath the beech trees. She hurried after him, still trying to make her case.
“Don’t be like that, Edmund. Think about it, will you? Sure, your tutors are excellent, but studying alone must be boring. I want to go to school with you. Can’t we go together?”
She circled around him with a hopeful look. Suddenly, Edmund stopped dead in the middle of the road and glared at her with icy eyes.
“Did you forget what I said about walking beside me?”
“Oh! I’m sorry!”
Startled, Rose quickly stepped back. But Edmund was already massaging the back of his neck, veins bulging with irritation.
He sighed sharply, almost like he was spitting out the feeling.
“How many times do I have to say it before it sticks? For once, maybe try actually listening to people. That’s something even a worthless teacher could teach you!”
He stormed off without looking back. A moment too late, Rose called out a soft apology. Her words hung in the air, unanswered.
Left alone, she bit her lip in guilt.
As he grew older, Edmund had come to hate walking beside her. People constantly teased him about their height difference, calling him a “pint-sized groom.” Naturally, he’d warned her to walk behind him instead of next to him whenever they were outside.
Rose usually remembered that in public, but in private—like today—she still forgot. It hadn’t been long since he started enforcing that rule even when they were alone.
Rose let out a quiet sigh.
“Maybe things will get better when he grows taller. Besides… this is just a phase.”
Lately, she’d developed the habit of believing adult phrases like “things will get better with time,” “you’ll understand when you’re older,” or “he’ll change once he matures.”
And now, those beliefs no longer came from others—they were her own. She simply believed time would fix everything.
And so far, she hadn’t found a reason to doubt it.
__________𓍯𓂃𓏧♡𓇢𓆸_________
Beyond the sugar maple woods that crisscrossed Aylesford’s rolling hills, the school stood atop Mansfield Hill, surrounded by sprawling pastures.
The shortcut through the woods was quicker, but Rose always took the longer route through Tonbon so she could walk to school with her friend who lived there.
As she arrived in Tonbon, children heading out from Wisteria Lane waved at her.
“Morning, Rose!”
Gone were the days when kids ran away from her, calling her ugly and dirty.
Sure, they’d grown up a bit, but Rose’s changing appearance had helped too. Her constantly dripping nose had stopped, her wild curls were slowly settling, and as her baby fat disappeared, her features began to emerge. Her hooded eyes revealed their shape, her nose gained a graceful slope, and her jawline grew defined.
In the end, Dicky had been right. Rose was beginning to resemble her mother, just as her grandfather had once predicted.
“Rose!”
“Meg!”
Meg came running with her lunch in hand, her bright smile as lively as ever. Her wide grin was her most distinguishing feature.
Meg James, daughter of the editor-in-chief of The Tonbon Weekly, was Rose’s best friend—ever since she’d moved to Tonbon two years ago.
The two girls linked arms and started up the carriage path toward Mansfield Hill.
Meg quickly noticed that Rose was quieter than usual. Normally, she would’ve already started gushing about some flower blooming by the roadside, or the glint of a cat’s green eyes that looked like marbles. But today, Rose looked vacant—like a sleepy cat.
Meg narrowed her eyes.
“You had another run-in with your charming fiancé, didn’t you?”
She barked mockingly like a dog.
In all of Islesford, Meg James was the only girl openly at odds with Edmund. She disliked him for how he treated her friend and rarely called him by name, referring to him instead as “your insufferable fiancé.”
“I did something wrong, and he got mad.”
“Oh, I’m sure he pounced on you like a wolf over the tiniest slip-up.”
“No, really. This time it was my fault.”
“If you poured stew on his annoyingly perfect face, I’ll let that one slide.”
Rose jabbed Meg in the side with her elbow. Not that Meg cared.
“Why is your fiancé such a jerk only to you?”
“Because he hates me.”
Meg frowned.
“Don’t say that like it’s normal. As someone who likes you, that really ticks me off.”
“But I’m not sad about it.”
Meg almost scoffed—not sad, her foot. Rose’s face was clouded over, darker than a summer storm.
Before Meg could respond, Rose suddenly lit up.
“Meg, look! Over there—it’s blooming! The huckleberry flower!”
“Huh?”
Meg scratched her head, trying to remember if the buds were even there yesterday.
But Rose had already darted over to the bush behind the paddock fence. Pale pink, bell-shaped blossoms clustered delicately at the ends of the branches, already attracting a few eager bees.
To Meg, they were just some boring roadside weeds.
But Rose looked at them like they were priceless treasure, her eyes sparkling with wonder. That look alone kept Meg from voicing her thoughts.
“I think huckleberry flowers are my favorite summer bloom.”
Meg sighed, lifting a hand.
Of course they are.
She’d said the same thing about the red lilies in the field yesterday.
Still, seeing her friend so happy over a single, scrappy blossom eased her frustration a little.
Sometimes, Rose’s gentle and naïve nature seemed almost foolish. But Meg could never bring herself to dislike her.
Maybe it was because of the day they first met.
“Here, this is your hat, right?”
Two years ago, on her first day in Tonbon, Meg had wandered the ferry dock feeling sad and alone after leaving her childhood friends behind. When her hat flew off into the Malthus River, she froze in dismay—until a strange girl jumped in without hesitation to retrieve it.
From that moment on, Meg stopped missing her old friends.
Still entranced by the flowers, Rose didn’t notice Meg tugging her arm.
“Seriously, I wish flowers only bloomed during vacation. Come on, Rose—we’re gonna be late!”
