Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil

by V.E. Schwab

After all, what grows in the midnight soil is not a different flower, only a bolder bloom.

“Bury my bones in the midnight soil, plant them shallow but water them deep, and in my place will grow a feral rose, soft red petals hiding sharp white teeth.”

You are the kind of bloom that thrives in any soil.

“Because you are the kind of bloom that thrives in any soil. And who knows, perhaps you will meet a worthy gardener.”

“We grow together in this garden.”