She didn’t believe it until the autumn the lane fought back.
He stopped at the garden.
Aaliyah attended the meeting, clutching a jar of her homemade lavender salve for courage. The room was filled with angry neighbors—the elderly Ms. Patricia who lived in the blue house, the young couple with the newborn, the gruff Vietnam vet from the end of the lane. They talked about traffic, noise, and property values.
The Garden of Her Name