The Mysterious Rose ll

In the rush, the hood slipped off—revealing Zara, the village’s deaf and mute girl.

Ayo froze. Zara?

She was the girl known for her gentle nature, her pleasant smiles, and the small woven baskets she sold at the market. It was also no secret that she could not read, write, or speak. So, how could she be the one leaving him roses with handwritten notes?

She looked at him, her round eyes filled with uncertainty, as if she had been caught doing something forbidden. Ayo let go of her shirt and slowly took a step backwards.

"Zara?" he asked, his voice softer now. "You... why have you been doing this?"

She smiled at him, blinking rapidly.

Ayo sighed and tried again, this time gesturing with his hands toward the rose and his doorstep "Who asked you to place this here?" He pointed at the ground, then at the flower, mimicking the motion of placing it down.

Zara tilted her head as if trying to figure out what he was saying, then shook it. It was either she didn’t understand—or she couldn’t explain.

Ayo was frustrated but determined to solve this mystery. He took a deep breath and gently tapped his chest, then mimicked writing. "The notes. Who?"

Zara simply smiled brightly at him and, before he could stop her, she turned and ran into the night.

Ayo stood there, the rose still in his hand, more confused than ever.

If Zara had been delivering the roses... then who had been sending them all along?

And why?

That night, he brought the flower and the note into his room. He held onto them longer than usual, lost in thoughts.

With a heavy heart, he placed the rose on his bedside table, its deep red petals soft and velvety. The fragrance, a sweet, soothing smell filled his room and calmed his restless mind.

But even as he closed his eyes, he couldn’t shake the confusion. Was Zara delivering roses for someone else? Everyone in their community knew he hated love and all the public display of emotions. So, who was really behind it all?

The next morning, Ayo woke up with the same questions burning in his mind. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, he decided it was time to put an end to this mystery.

It was a Saturday so he walked straight to Zara’s house, determined to get answers. She was sitting outside, weaving baskets as usual, humming tunelessly to herself. He reduced his pace so as not to scare her and plastered a smile on his face. When she saw him, she stopped weaving and smiled, as if she had known he would come.

Ayo approached cautiously. She pointed at the chair beside her, so he sat down, his eyes never leaving her warm ones. He pointed to the rose he had brought inside the night before. "Zara," he said gently, "please, tell me. Who asked you to bring these roses to me?"

He knew she did not hear his words but he stayed hopeful. Zara grinned and smply reached into her basket, pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to him.

Ayo unfolded it and saw a delicate handwritten note that read:

"Love is patient, love is kind. It doesn’t always need words. But sometimes, it just needs someone to notice."

Ayo’s heart skipped a beat. The message felt... familiar.

He looked at Zara, who smiled softly, then touched his chest with her warm hand. Ayo’s mind raced as he realized what was happening.

Without a word, Zara stood up, took him by the hand, and led him down the winding path through the village. They arrived at a small house on the edge of the village, and as Zara knocked gently on the door, Ayo’s curiosity grew.

NEXT