The mist from the glass greenhouse condensed on her eyelashes. When Elvira counted the seventy-fourth white rose, she found the odd one. The black petals curled like the decorative patterns on the iron railings, and the thorns were hung with dark red drops. The flower stem label was printed with gold-stamped French: Pour les funérailles de l'amour.
"The client specifically requested that it be added to the funeral bouquet." The store manager used tweezers to pick up the black rose and inserted it into the wrapping paper, "saying that they wanted to recreate the unfinished wedding in Vienna in 1912."
Elvira's thumb was pierced by a thorn while pruning branches. A drop of blood hung on the tip of her finger, refusing to fall, like a red glass bead that refused to solidify. She remembered the "taboo" Lucas mentioned in the equipment room, and pressed the wound on the silver leaf bookmark - this time it took a full three seconds to heal.
The doorbell of the flower shop made a rusty groan. Lucas stood in the diamond-shaped light cast by the awning, and the rain flowed into silver streams along the black umbrella frame. He was wearing a crisp lead-gray coat today, with a wolf head brooch made of meteorite pinned to his collar.
"I'm here to pick up the flowers I ordered." His eyes slid over her thumb, which was covered in a Band-Aid. "The black roses need to be wrapped individually."
Elvira noticed that he was wearing a full-finger leather glove on his left hand. The hole had been patched last week, and the thread was an unnaturally charred black. As the wrapping paper rustled, she smelled a pungent smell like mothballs oozing from the bouquet.
"These are funeral flowers." She pinned the card loosely on purpose.
"It matches my suit perfectly." Lucas took out the card and put it in the inner pocket of his coat. When he turned around, the ribs of the umbrella caught her hair band. The moment the chestnut curly hair fell down, his pupils turned green like swamp phosphorescence.
The rainstorm turned into freezing rain in the evening. When Elvira opened the door of the apartment building, she found a brown paper envelope on the steps. The wax seal was a totem composed of a wolf head and a crescent moon. When she opened it, it turned out to be a gold-stamped invitation: Mrs. Audrey von Neumann sincerely invites you to attend the private collection exhibition tomorrow night.
There was a long silver hair stuck to the edge of the invitation. Elvira wrapped it around the lamp switch and found that the hair would emit a faint fluorescence in the dark. The mother's cough came from the living room, and the TV news was reporting on a wildlife hospital donated by a countess.
The collection was on display in a private museum by the river. Elvira borrowed Lila's black satin gown, with a safety pin at the waist. As the waiter checked the invitations, she saw Lucas standing on the second-floor terrace, pouring dark purple liquid into a champagne glass.
"I didn't expect you to come." Lady Audrey suddenly appeared behind him. Each pearl in her pearl necklace was engraved with a miniature wolf head, and her earrings were two miniature scimitars inlaid with diamonds. "I deliberately lowered the temperature of the exhibition hall to match your old dress."
The exhibits were all wolf sculptures. From Bronze Age ritual implements to contemporary installation art, each piece was labeled "Not for Sale." Elvira stopped in front of an amber glass wolf and found that her reflection was distorted into a liquid form.
"This is made from volcanic ash and the ashes of the fallen." Lucas' voice echoed. He changed into a dark red velvet suit with the black rose pinned on his chest. "Do you like it?"
Elvira backed away and bumped into the display case. The tempered glass suddenly shattered, and the sharp fragments floated in the air to form the outline of a wolf. When Lucas grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the exit, she saw the silver lines on the back of his neck flickering like a powered circuit board.
The fire escape was filled with unopened frames. Lucas pressed her against the Picasso, his breath puffing on her collarbone. "It's still time to leave."
"Your mother has embedded surveillance cameras in every exhibit." Ivy pulled open the collar of his shirt, and the silver lines were oozing blood. "In the broadcast of the game last weekend, the commentator said that the Neumann Group helicopter hovered over the explosion site."
An alarm sounded from downstairs. Lucas pressed a car key into her palm: "The red sports car is parked at the dock and has been fueled." As he turned and walked toward the stairs, a palm-sized blood stain oozed from the back of his suit.
Elvira waited at the dock for forty minutes. The sound of the tide hitting the embankment was mixed with the roar of the engine. It turned out to be Lady Audrey's Rolls-Royce. When the window was lowered, she saw her smashed wolf bust placed on the leather seat.
"Game over." Audrey flicked the ash from her cigarette, and the wolf eyes on her brooch changed color as she moved. "I'll give you two choices: accept the check, or salvage your sketchbook from the moat tomorrow."
The wolf head pendant on the keychain suddenly became hot. The moment Elvira threw it into the river, a loud explosion of a sports car came from the other side. The firelight illuminated her mobile phone screen - three photos sent by an unknown number five minutes ago: a picture of her mother receiving an IV, a close-up of the door lock of Lila's studio, and Lucas' pale wrist soaked in some liquid.
When I got home, I found the TV was frozen on the midnight news. The title behind the host read: "The Neumann family announced its marriage with the Wolfgang Group." Lucas was wearing the dress he wore at the engagement party, and on his left middle finger was the same wolf head ring as Selena. When Elvira turned off the TV, her necklace suddenly tightened, leaving red marks, as if an invisible hand was angry for someone.