After being unceremoniously dismissed by the entitled heir to the estate he had cared for, Arthur walked towards his favorite garden, a place that had been his sanctuary for so many years. As he knelt to tend to the plants, his mind wandered, when something unusual caught his attention—something that would soon alter the course of his life.
I knelt in the east garden, my fingers sinking into the earth, when Margaret, one of the kitchen staff, hurried towards me, her face pale and anxious.
“Arthur, have you heard? Mr. Stuart is coming back today. He’s taking charge of everything,” she said, her voice filled with worry.
I nodded slowly, not looking up from my work as I carefully planted another bulb. “Yes, I know.”
I had been dreading this day ever since old Mr. Jared passed away. For years, I had tended to these grounds, watching as the seasons changed, pushing my wheelbarrow with shears in hand, becoming as much a part of the land as the trees and flowers I cared for.
This estate knew my every move, the rhythm of my work embedded deep within its soil. And now, Stuart, the son of the man who had once respected me, was returning to claim what he believed was rightfully his.