The flowers had arrived by courier, a wiry man in a great hurry. He had thrust them into her arms with an unconvincing bow and turned more sharply than courtesy allows. The bouquet was all Ana's favourites, mini-sunflowers, white daisies and purple asters. It wasn't her birthday and she didn't have a new lover, she closed the front door and searched for a label, a card, anything to help her find the sender. But all she found was a key in an envelope. No instructions. No clue. No defining features or markings.... See more
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