Chapter 164 - Sophie’s Garden
While Noah built the future of alpine rescue in the boathouse, Sophie had claimed the eastern terrace for her own kingdom.
She was kneeling in the rich black soil of our raised stone garden beds, wearing denim overalls with floral embroidery and tiny yellow gardening gloves, carefully patting the earth around a row of blooming white hydrangeas and fragrant wild lavender.
Beside her on a stone bench, wrapped in a miniature custom canvas rain jacket that Sister Beatrice had hand-stitched for him, sat Barnaby the plush rabbit, looking out over the sparkling lake with wide glass eyes.
Captain Dupont, wearing civilian trousers and a comfortable wool sweater, was on his knees beside her, helping her dig holes with a small steel trowel.
"The lavender needs six inches of drainage rock beneath the roots, Mademoiselle Sophie," Dupont instructed gently, pointing to the gravel base.
"Just like the foundation of the safehouse, Captain," Sophie replied solemnly, placing a lavender root into the soil with delicate, careful fingers. "Grandpa Arthur told Mommy that if you build something with deep roots and good stones... the wind can never tear it out of the ground."
Dupont stopped digging. He looked at the seven-year-old girl with an expression of profound, unspoken reverence.
"Your grandfather was a very wise man, Sophie," Dupont whispered.
"My daddy is wise too," Sophie smiled, her gray eyes dancing in the spring sunshine. "He told me that flowers are proof that the dark doesn't win."
She stood up, peeled off her tiny gloves, and picked up her small green watering can, showering the fresh blossoms in a glittering rainbow of water droplets that caught the morning light like diamonds.
I walked down the stone garden steps, carrying a plate of fresh sliced peaches, watching my daughter stand proud and whole in the center of her blooming sanctuary.
She turned, saw me, and ran across the grass, throwing her small arms around my waist in a fierce, joyful hug.
"Look, Mommy!" Sophie cheered, pointing back to the flowerbeds. "The garden is ready for summer!"
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I knelt down, kissing her sun-warmed cheek, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender, earth, and childhood.
"It’s magnificent, my brave girl," I smiled, holding her close against my heart. "Just like you."
