“Congratulations, dear. What kind?”

“Daisies,” I answered immediately.

As she wrapped them, I spoke softly.

“You once let a little girl take flowers without paying. They were for her mother’s grave.”

Her hands stopped.

She looked up slowly.

“That was you?”

I nodded.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I knew your mother,” she said quietly. “And your grandmother too. They were kind to me when I first opened this shop.”

She gently touched the daisies.

“Your mother came every Sunday. She always chose daisies—said they reminded her of home.”

My throat tightened.

I had never known that.

“She must have passed that love to you,” she said. “And now… you’re starting your own life.”

She finished the bouquet, tying it with a white ribbon.

“No charge,” she said with a soft smile. “For old times.”

But this time, I placed money on the counter.

“No,” I said gently. “Now it’s my turn.”