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The man in the suit stepped forward and extended his hand toward me. “My name is Thomas,” he said, his voice deep and steady, echoing against the glass walls. “I’m the executor of the estate for a woman named Elena, and this is her sister, Sarah.” He explained that Elena had passed away a year ago, leaving behind a very specific set of instructions in her will. She had been a regular at this flower shop for decades, and she wanted to make sure her daughter, Maya, was growing up in a community that looked out for its own.
