"Well, are you Camilla's sister?" Hadley demanded, his judgment exerting pressure on me like a shackle around my throat. Over his shoulder, I saw the same hate-filled glare that always accompanied ‘Undone’. I heard the same cursing and smelled the same rotting that chased me from my home. I could handle all of it. It was all offered for the wrong reasons. But Hadley's eyes were different. The disgust behind them was genuine. I deserved it, and I didn't know how to answer his question while drowning in his contempt.

  "I... um, I'm..." I started and he clicked his tongue.

  "That'll be a yes then. I have nothing to say to you. Go talk to someone else," he dismissed before turning his back to me. My face paled and I had to fight the water gathering in my eyes. Two emotions warred and directed my body in different directions. I wanted to flee. I wanted to take this excuse to run and never look back. I also wanted to follow him. I wanted to explain myself and promise that I meant Camilla no harm. Well, no further harm. I forgot all about my curiosity about the missing bodies in the garden. I forgot about the spell, and the plague, and everyone but Hadley and Camilla.

  Except for one thing the city had given me. I remembered that maybe, I was worth something. So I broke free from the emotional paralysis and called after him. "W-wait, please!" I cried. He froze, tension clear in his shoulders. "I know. You are right to want nothing to do with me. Camilla was always right, and what I did was... But that's why I'm here. I want to find her. I want to make amends. Please, I just want to find her," I begged. He was silent for a long moment and a heavy sigh was the only indication I wasn’t talking to stone. I could feel his tension as he looked over his shoulder.

  "Come with me," he said, before walking out of the garden. I paused there for a moment before my body caught up to my mind. Then I bit my lip and followed. As I left the garden, I saw Hadley entering his little home and quickly caught up. I walked inside and he shoved a watering can into my hands. My stomach dropped as I remembered the first time I'd seen it, but I swallowed hard and pushed that thought to the back of my mind. "Water the flowers on the sill," he ordered, and I nervously nodded.

  As I poured the water over the flowers, an intense nostalgia flooded my veins like venom. I put my hand over my mouth as I gagged on the memories of taking care of Camilla's plants when I was just a girl. Once fond memories left a bitter aftertaste that only soured as Hadley spoke again. "Camilla is a good person. A kind person. You know that garden over there was barely more than a field of weeds when I met her? It takes a special kind of person to smile like she does, after having her name dragged through the mud and her life ruined. All that and she still only cared about helping other people. A really special kind of person," he reminisced.

  I recognized my sister in every word from his mouth. "I'm glad to hear she is still smiling," I responded, my own lips cracking in a nostalgic smile. I didn't have the courage to look Hadley in the face as I spoke. Hearing me wish her well must have sounded like some kind of joke.

  "She was last I saw her. She was a good friend of mine, while she stayed here. She talked a lot about her life before we met. A lot about you. It takes a different kind of person, you know. To hurt someone like that," he scoffed. I winced and spilled a little water.

  "It does," I agreed under my breath. He rewarded me with a humorless laugh.

  "So. Amends, huh? And how exactly do you plan to do that?" He interrogated. I finally turned around, my neck struggling to hold me head upright.

  "I don't know. I... I haven't figured that out. But I have to find her to try. So please, if you have any idea where I can find her..." I trailed, my words obviously sounding as feeble to him as they did to me.

  "Let me tell you something, Mars. It's not the thought that counts, it's actions," he intoned. "I told you, Camilla is a friend of mine. Yeah, I haven't seen her in a few years, but she's a friend nonetheless. Tell me, why should I inflict you on her now? Why would seeing you do anything but open wounds? You left your scars, leave it at that. That woman doesn't need any new ones." His words tear at me but I can't refute them. I have often wondered the same. But... an answer had started to form that morning before I found him.

  "You're right. I don't know what to do to make things better. But I know where I can start. I can't do anything to change the past. And if anyone could, it would be me. But I can't," I answered, setting my jaw in determination. His eyebrows climbed his forehead at the implication of my claim, but I pushed through. "What I can do is try to be like her. I can live in her example. Prove that I do care. If I do that, will you help me?"

  "The garden is already healed. Camilla did beautiful work. So what are you going to do to be like her?" he challenged. I clenched my fists.

  "I don't have the kind touch she does. I never did, and I'm not a flora mage, but I am a mage. So no, I can't save the garden. But I can stop this city from dying. I can stop the Quiet," I announced. He stared at me.

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  "Stop the Quiet, huh?" He asked, and my confidence started to waver. "You sound like my son. Optimistic. Confident. Hopeless," He answered, shaking his head. "You should be running if you know what the Quiet is. Not claiming you can stop it."

  "Why aren't you?" I asked, and he fixed his gaze on the vase in the middle of his table.

  "The garden needs me. Your sister's garden needs me. I follow through on my promises, and she doesn't need one more person to let her down. I'll be here until the Quiet takes me," he replied.

  "Then stopping the Quiet will spare you for the garden, and for Camilla. Please, let me try?" I begged. Finally, he nodded.

  "Suit yourself. You may not be Camilla, but she did seem to think you would be capable someday. I can't stop you anyhow. If you can end this plague, I'll help you find her," He promised. "You should meet my son, Harrison. He's been investigating the Quiet himself for a few days. He might be able to point you in the right direction."

  "I'd be happy to," I answered, the vice around my heart easing up a little. "Where can I find him?"

  Hadley stood and began looking through a few drawers in a china cabinet against the back wall. Finally, he pulled out a simple broach and tossed it to me. I caught it and began to examine it. It had an iris engraved on it. "He lives just north of the graveyard. Show him this. He'll know you spoke to me first and what you are there for," he instructed.

  "What’s it mean?" I asked as Hadley sat back down at his table.

  "It was his mother's. She was taken by the quiet a few days ago. After we went to get help, her... body went missing. He's determined to find it. Forget stopping the quiet. If you do that, I'll answer your questions," he promised. I closed my hand around the pin. That reminded me of my other question, however.

  "Were the guards not using the garden to hide Quiet victims?" I asked. As soon as I did, his head jerked up at me. He looked like I'd slapped him.

  "I would never allow that, why would you even suggest that?" he asked, and I flinched back.

  "I just... I thought they might like the high walls and the single gate. It would be a good place for it, for someone who didn't care," I lied. He examined me with calculating eyes. I looked down and turned around, returning to watering his plants.

  "No. They aren't using my garden to hide corpses. Aethon's grace, you sound like… no. It would kill me to see that happen to it," he finally answered. It didn't make sense. The first time around, they had definitely been in there. 'Did they move them there after this point for some reason' I wondered. But that made no sense either. The gate had been guarded when I got there the first day. They clearly already planned to use it, and they hadn't known Hadley was dead yet. Then, another thought occurred to me.

  "Sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask," I apologized while I began watering the final pot. "One last question and I'll be out of your hair,” I promised. He relaxed a bit and nodded as I looked back for a response. “Do you know a Matthew Cross?" I finished watering the flowers but he didn't answer. "Hadley?" I asked again, then dropped the watering can as I turned. Yet again, Hadley was dead. He had died as I spoke to him. I kicked myself for not realizing this would happen now. Some part of me forgot it had happened the first time. While he was watering his flowers, as I had just been doing. My breathing shortened and I recognized the world clawing at me, pulling me from my body and forcing me to watch myself panic.

  'How many green things in the room, Mars?' I asked myself as my mind struggled to keep up with the pace of my breathing. I couldn't believe I had let this happen again. I hadn't even tried to stop it. I stumbled backward as I looked at the lifeless body of the man I knew was my sister's friend. I caught myself on the window sill, knocking a pot of flowers onto the ground. The crash brought me back to myself, and for some reason, the ruined plant felt unacceptable at that moment. I fell to my knees and started shoveling dirt into my hands. I tried to gather the flowers. I just had to replant them, and everything would be okay. I don’t know why I didn’t try ‘Undone’. Perhaps I felt I needed to fix it with my hands. Or maybe I just couldn’t think clearly.

  I knew it wouldn't. I knew they were just flowers. But I couldn't save Hadley, so every part of me that needed things to be okay threw itself at these flowers. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to! It'll be alright, I can fix this," I mumbled out loud. Finally, I gathered all of them, held the dirt in my shirt, and pulled myself up with my free hand.

  I started to look around for a new pot to plant them in, but I never got the chance. A hand grabbed me by the hair and shoved my head into the brick wall. I didn't understand. I couldn't even feel the pain. They slammed my head into the wall a second time. Then a third and a fourth. The world was a blur. I recognized blood on the dirty brick as they slammed, again and again and again. I tried to pull away and they pulled me over to the sill to crash me into the remaining pots. Terracotta and ceramic shattered as I collided with them.

  Finally, they threw me to the ground and I saw their boot descend on me and stomp. I tried to cast ‘Undone’ but my jaw was broken and I couldn't form the words for the spell. Splinters of the pots split the skin of my face and I felt them in my lips as I tried to speak. They stomped and my vision blurred with the blood from my crushed skull as I failed to direct my aura. I could feel the sparks of magic dance across my skin but fail to do anything. They stomped again and again. The final thing I saw was Hadley's corpse, tinted red from the blood in my eyes, walking out of his house.

  Then, finally, I died.

  End of The First Day