“I couldn’t find out anything,” Josmere called from the back as she entered through the storage area. “No word on Yoma, no word on why you’re such a hot item right now, nothing at all. But I’m guessing she’s not on Collar anymore. No one could hide that well from me!”
Josmere rounded the corner and stopped. Layela knew how she must look, sitting on the floor and surrounded by her chopped masterpiece. Raising an eyebrow, the Berganda reached behind the counter and grabbed the broom.
“Don’t take it personally,” Layela said as she stood up, “but I do like taking my frustrations out on plant life.”
Josmere looked at her in shock before her face broke out in a grin. Although Josmere still seemed to be hiding something from her, Layela had to admit that the familiar face brought her great comfort. Especially considering what she had to do next.
She forced her legs to take her to the counter. Josmere recounted some of her searches as Layela swept; all of them led nowhere, not even to more questions. The Berganda’s voice rose and fell again as her tale took her back through her frustrations.
“I did get you the stuff you asked for,” Josmere said. She threw out the rest of the cuttings and, after wiping her hands on her pants, handed Layela a small envelope.
Layela looked inside: a new passport with a fake identity, and identification cards to match. Everything she needed to get off the planet.
“Thanks Josmere,” Layela whispered, pocketing the envelope and picking up the document she had fidgeted with most of the day.
Without a word she handed it to Josmere, who took it without question. The moment it was out of her grasp, Layela wished she could hold it again and fidget with it until it was well worn and illegible.
“Oh Layl, I can’t!” the Berganda whispered, her eyes widening as she read. The document was a clear contract, stating that she, Layela Delamores, signed over ownership of Sunrise Flowers to Josmere Berganda. Effective immediately.
“Yes you can, and you have to. It’s only temporary.”
“But I don’t want it. This is yours, not mine,” Josmere said, pushing the piece of paper back towards Layela.
Layela rooted her arms by her side, her fingers forming fists lest they reach out for the document before she could stop them.
“Josmere, I know it isn’t like you to stay so sedentary, but I need you to do this.” Her voice rose with the need to be understood; to convince Josmere, not to mention herself, that this was indeed the right course of action. “I can’t do business right now, and if I don’t make money, then I can’t keep this place up. I have no savings left. Everything is tied into this place.”
Josmere’s eyes held hers. The small creases around them were the only sign of aging the Berganda would ever show.
“Bergandas can’t own businesses in Solarian space,” she whispered, as though afraid her refusal might shatter Layela like fine glass.
“If they wear regulation gloves at all times on Collar, they can.” Layela gave her a thin smile. “It was one of the many reasons we chose this planet, should you ever decide to join us.”
Josmere opened her mouth as though to say something, but then stopped and lowered her eyes. In the throes of her own grief over her flower shop, Layela didn’t care to pursue the matter further. It was time to go.
“Besides,” Layela added with a forced laugh. “You’re a plant, so this should be easy for you, right? Just make sure not to sell yourself.”
Josmere’s frown lessened, and she looked down at the paper again.
“You’re going after Yoma?” she asked without looking up.
“Yes. I need to know what’s happening so I know how to fix it. I’m guessing Yoma has the answers I need.” The last words were spoken with more bitterness than she had intended.
Josmere shook her head again, green hair tossing like leaves caught in the wind.
“Josmere,” Layela said, her voice becoming more forceful. As she grabbed the Berganda’s arm, the familiar tingle of Josmere’s powers coursed through her fingers.
Josmere looked up, and Layela was surprised to see uncertainty in the green eyes. It was not a quality she had ever witnessed in the Berganda.
“You’re the only one I trust to do this.” Layela whispered, holding Josmere’s gaze. For all of her faults and secrets, the Berganda had always been loyal to the twins, even when it would have proven wiser to stay away.
“I don’t like this,” Josmere said. “But I’ll do it. Where will you begin your search?”
“I don’t know.” She studied the Berganda closely. “Do you have any ideas?”
Anger flashed across Josmere’s face for a second. “If I did, don’t you think I’d be out there looking? Bones, Layela, you two are my best friends, and if you think I’d endanger Yoma even if she’d beg me to, I wouldn’t! I don’t know what’s going on any more than you!”
Layela studied her friend for a moment, inclined to believe her. She walked behind the counter to pick up her light travel satchel.
“Then I hope my instincts will guide me. That’s usually enough to find her,” she said. Josmere had witnessed enough of the twins’ link over the years not to question it. She busied herself with the satchel so that the Berganda wouldn’t see the lie in her eyes. In the past few years, her link with Yoma had weakened, to the point where Layela had not even felt the direction in which Yoma had headed.
When she dared look at Josmere again, the small bag secured around her shoulder, the contract was on the counter with fresh ink drying at the bottom. Suddenly, Layela’s bag felt heavier.
“I’ll do this, Layl,”
