Chapter 10: The Dirt and the Healing
The restoration of the greenhouse became a weekend ritual, a messy, exhausting, and entirely wonderful process that brought the fragmented household together. It wasn’t just Sarah and Lily pulling weeds; the project quickly drew in the rest of their makeshift family.
By the second Saturday, Marcus showed up in faded coveralls, carrying a heavy toolkit. Without a word, he climbed a rickety ladder to assess the broken panes of glass and the rusted ventilation system. Mrs. Gable, declaring that hard labor required proper fuel, began delivering trays of iced tea and thick deli sandwiches on paper plates.
"You know, Miss Lily," Marcus called down from the roof as he scraped away old caulking, "this ventilation motor isn't actually broken. Someone just disconnected the main wire and bent the housing. Deliberate sabotage."
Lily paused, her hands covered in damp topsoil. A month ago, the thought of Victoria’s petty, vindictive actions would have sent a spike of anxiety through her chest. Now, it just felt pathetic.
"Well," Lily said, wiping a streak of dirt from her forehead with the back of her wrist, "can you fix it?"
"Already done," Marcus grinned, twisting a wire cap into place. "Give the thermostat a crank, Sarah!"
Aunt Sarah, who was currently wrestling with a massive, dead fern, reached over and flipped the heavy brass switch on the wall. For a second, nothing happened. Then, a low, mechanical hum vibrated through the floorboards. The ancient iron pipes hissed, and a wave of warm air began to circulate through the chilly glass room.
Lily let out a cheer, dropping her trowel. They were actually doing it.
The physical labor was intensely therapeutic. Ripping out dead, suffocating vines felt like pulling Victoria’s lingering influence out of the manor by the roots. For every bag of debris they hauled to the curb, Lily felt a little lighter. She carefully repotted the single, stubborn green sprout she had found the week before, placing it in a prime spot on the center table where it would catch the morning sun.
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"It's looking like a home for plants again," Sarah observed late that afternoon, leaning on a broom and surveying their work. The glass was scrubbed clean, the dead brush was gone, and neat rows of fresh potting soil waited in the planter boxes.
Lily looked around, her muscles aching but her heart incredibly full. "It's looking like a home for us, too," she smiled.
