The Garden That Never Died

After the war, a botanist named Ada bought a ruined estate on the outskirts of town. The garden was wild, overgrown — yet every flower was in bloom, even in winter.

As she explored, she found a greenhouse sealed by rusted chains. When she broke them, the door opened to a wave of warm air and the scent of roses.

Inside, the plants whispered. Their leaves brushed against her hands, pulsing faintly with light. On one vine, she found a ring tangled among the thorns — engraved with her initials and a date from fifty years in the future.

The climax: The next morning, the greenhouse had vanished. In its place was a field of pale blossoms that glowed at night, spelling one word from above: Remember.