Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

"Anyone else coming over?" Flora asked, rubbing her sore wrists nonchalantly.

No one answered.

The folks from Club 257 and Empire Base wouldn't dare cross over, even if it meant staying poisoned forever. No way.

Their leader, Ms. Flora, had mad medical skills, way beyond that of Mr. Atticus. They knew they'd be begging Flora for help eventually. "Have some water," Connor said, handing her an insulated mug.

Flora took it and sipped, the water sweetened just right with honey. She pursed her lips, took another sip, and handed it back.

"Next time, a little less honey."

"Got it!" Connor nodded, delighted to see Flora's mood lighten. He'd been fretting over her, especially with all the stress about Crimson. Seeing her relax, even a bit, was a relief.

your pick!" An Empire Base disciple sat down, cheerfully

wished everyone else

cured someone. What do we do now?" Lance whispered, his anger rising as the crowd practically idolized Mr.

scoffed. "He's not that

Flora thought the poison was his doing, but after analyzing it, she dismissed the idea. He wasn't capable of creating such a toxin, nor curing it. She'd seen his detox

like I'm

"Me too!"

pain-free but also energized, like they could

let out a breath, feeling refreshed and clear-headed. He looked at Flora with newfound respect; her skills were

"She actually cured them?"