In the days before leaving for London, Charlotte Hastings writes to Jocelyn about her impending trip. Jocelyn replies with a brief, impersonal note wishing Charlotte a pleasant spring, offering no mention of their garden encounter, no explanation, and no farewell. The lack of response deepens Charlottes hurt as the season turns from tulips and hyacinths toward roses.

On the last day at Clement Hall, the carriage is readied for the six-hour ride to London. Charlottes father gives her a firm, brief embrace in the foyer. Her brother meets her at the door, puts an arm around her, and assures her the time away will clear her head; Charlotte stays silent as she crosses the gravel, each step feeling like protest.

Her mother is the last to see her off. Charlotte finally admits, in a whisper, that she does not want to go, and begins to cry. Her mother catches her hands and tells her, Never be sorry for who you are, revealing she already knows what Charlotte tried to hide by burning her journal. She describes Charlotte as someone who wears her heart like a second skin, open to love, pain, joy, hope, and sorrow, and acknowledges that such openness will make life harder but also beautiful.

Recalling times swiftness from childhood to the present, Charlottes mother says they have kept her at Clement Hall too long. When Charlotte pleads that she is happy at home, her mother answers that she will be happy in London as well, because she is a bloom that thrives in any soil. She gives Charlotte a small bundle of dried wildflowers from the yard and suggests she may meet a worthy gardener, or at least gather stories to inspire her art.

Buoyed slightly, Charlotte climbs into the carriage, telling herself it is only a season. The narrative then reveals the sharper truth: Charlotte will not return to Clement Hall for fifty-two years, transforming the departure from a brief absence into a life-altering severance.