Vol. 1, Chapter 2 - Giverny

The air was heavy with the scent of roses and lilies—familiar, timeless, intoxicating. Madeline hadn’t been here since she was a child, but the garden’s beauty was unchanged.

Somewhere beyond the trellises, a fountain trickled. She wandered slowly, her fingertips brushing lavender and poppies, letting the silence gather around her.

Then she saw it. A porcelain teacup, still warm, perched on a small wrought iron table. Beside it, a sketchbook lay open to a pencil rendering of the very garden she stood in.

But something was off. In the sketch, a narrow door appeared in the hedge—one that didn’t exist. Or did it?