They put the flat I was renting up for sale, so I had no choice but to move out. I’d only lived there for a year, but it had become my little haven—quiet, sunlit, filled with the scent of lavender candles. On my last day, I cleaned every corner, scrubbed the tiles until they shone, and even left a small bouquet of daisies on the table.
It felt right to leave something beautiful behind, even if no one would notice.
The next morning, my phone rang. It was my landlady.
My heart sank—I thought she’d found something broken or wanted to complain about some tiny detail I’d missed. I hesitated before answering.
But instead of anger, her voice was warm.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said. “I’ve never seen a tenant leave a plac
What happened next changed everything…
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