~Jennie’s~

“You don’t need to start big,” the gardener’s accent is thick with southern undertones, warm like burnt honey. “You just need soil, light, and something that wants to grow.”

I kneel beside him, hands already deep in the dirt. It’s warm. A little wet from the morning dew. There are ladybugs crawling between my fingers, and I don’t even flinch. I actually smile. Something about this feels clean. Honest.

He hands me a small tray of basil sprouts. “Start with these. They’re stubborn little things, but they love sun. Just like people who survive tornadoes.”

I nod and don’t speak.

Because if I do, I’ll cry. And I don’t...