The next day was Sunday. I didn’t work at Porter Hall on Sundays, so I spent a good portion of the afternoon at the library, studying up on roses. No idea why since I wasn’t allowed to go near Isobel’s garden again. But I learned as much as I could anyway, because she intrigued me, and roses seemed to intrigue her. Plus, I felt bad about the way things had left off between us the day before, which was why I arrived to work on Monday with a small packet of seeds in my pocket.
I had stopped by a garden store on the way over, planning to get something amazing for Isobel in the hopes she’d forgive me for hurting her feelings on Saturday. Since she’d made it impossible for me to apologize to her in person, I thought maybe a gift—an olive branch, as it were—would do the trick.
But I hadn’t had
