She had practically flown to the greenhouse. She couldn’t even remember the drive. She knew that if there was any connection between the plant world and the Furies, she would find it at the greenhouse.
Once she was inside, the atmosphere was claustrophobic; shining her flashlight around the space, Em noticed the yellow-white film that had accumulated on the inside of the glass panes. The plants looked more cooped in than they had before.
“Hello?” Her voice echoed thinly off the walls. On her tiptoes, shining the blue light in front of her feet, she made her way slowly down the center aisle of the greenhouse, toward the wooden table where she’d sat with Nora, Skylar, and Hannah Markswell the other night. Her shoes clicked against the cement. To the left was a rickety metal shelving unit filled with books about gardening, landscaping, and botany, some of them ancient and some brand-new. She positioned herself so that she could see both the front and the rear doors, and leaned over so she could read the books’ spines. Plants of the Northeast. Growing Annuals Indoors. Victorian Horticulture. She ran a finger down the row. Next to those was a set of black three-ring binders, each labeled with a name. Nora’s was one of them.
Em pulled the binder from the shelf and opened it to find loose-leaf papers marked in Nora’s neat cursive. Notes. Each of the gardeners kept notes on their plants, on their findings. Nora’s appeared to be arranged alphabetically by type of plant: heliotrope, ivy, violets. The largest section, however, was labeled with a simple F.
Em flipped quickly to those pages and found exactly what she’d expected to find: Nora’s observations about orchids. The terms were scientific, but Em’s breath hitched. Nora was attempting to breed what she referred to as the “albino orchid.”
I am starting to believe that the red orchid turns white only during a full moon, Nora had written. It has happened to me twice now. There must be some significance. The moon must be at its peak in order for the flower to open its petals and reveal the seeds inside. The seeds can be good or bad—they can yield new plants, or shrivel in the dirt. It wilts almost instantly—usually within one hour of having bloomed. The flower is extremely rare, extremely sensitive. As yet, I have not succeeded in keeping it in bloom.
Em read the passage several times. As she closed the binder, she realized her hands were shaking. It was starting to make sense. If the flower was special, then its seeds must be unique too. The seeds can be good or bad. Just as the red seeds from the Furies’ evil flowers had launched her transformation, the seeds from the albino orchid could counter their effect. When the seeds were bad, they were very bad. And when they were good, they were saviors.
“You were right, Lucy,” she said into the silence.
When the light brings up the albino, Lucy had said.
Good or bad.
Ty wanted those seeds too. They’d make her good, make her human again.
The red orchid turns white only during a full moon, Nora had written.
Em pulled her phone out and clicked over to her mariners’ calendar—the one JD had downloaded to her phone one night when they were hanging out. It listed high and low tides, what time the sun would rise and set, the phases of the moon. A combination of humidity and nerves made the phone slick in her hands. What was the date? She could barely remember.
And when she pulled up today’s date, Em’s heart leaped from her chest. The full moon was tonight. It all made sense: the same night as the play, just as Crow’s vision had predicted. She had one final chance to save herself. And Ty had to be thinking the exact same thing. Those seeds would save her, or, in the wrong hands, condemn her forever.
? ? ?
The school day had been itchy, like wearing a wool sweater with nothing on underneath. She’d spent half of fourth period shaking in the corner of the girls’ bathroom by the cafeteria, even as everyone bustled around her, psyched to see buds blooming on the trees, looking forward to spring break. She wanted to say good-bye to everyone one last time, but couldn’t stand to even look at them. Just like she couldn’t bring herself to pick up Crow’s insistent calls and texts. Just like she was avoiding seeing JD, and Gabby, and Skylar, who were all going to the play.
And now she was back at home, hiding in her room, trying to stop her whole body from trembling. Because it was tonight.
Do or die.
Her last chance.
“Thank god it’s finally calmed down out there.” Her mom poked her head into Em’s room. “Remember how terrified you used be of thunderstorms?”