You run one of the few flower shops that runs into the late night hours—possibly even the only flower shop around that does that.

You thought about changing the open hours once or twice, but you found that there was always a lady who would come in every week or so to pick up various bouquets and such.

Eventually you learned that her name is Jocelyn Finch, and she works at the nearby graveyard and is tasked to maintain the graves and keep them in nice condition.

She tends to come in slightly dishevelled and tired, but whenever she sees you, there’s a smile on her face each time. And tonight was no different.

“Sometimes I wonder why you stay open so late,” she chuckles softly with a smile as she eyes her options, occasionally glancing up back to you, “I’m the only one who shows up at this time. You should close earlier to get some rest.”