Lilith plodded to the bathroom. Loudly knocking before entering, she jumped into the shower, not so much to wash off the dirt, but to think. Running water calmed her mind, helping her map out the day. She needed to scrutinize the rose garden, to examine its every alley, spy on its every shadow, smell, and sound. She hoped to hear the woman-thing again, but this time she'd be prepared. Panther would sniff out potential locations of buried bodies, and she'd go look for Ed. There also remained the unknown of yesterday's announcement.

Lilith looked around to make sure nobody could hear her. "I wonder what my treacherous sleazebag of a grandfather might have announced that was so important?"

Without warning, the bathroom moved. Screeching, it sped up, then down, then stopped, shaking like a wet animal.

Lilith held on to the shower door. "Oh, you don't like him either?"

The bathroom didn't answer, only stretched a little, cracking its joints.

"I understand. If you don't want to talk about him, that's fine." Unperplexed, she turned off the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and opened the door.

"Excuse me if I interrupted your routine. But thank you, and good morning," she said politely to the mansion at large.

Lilith chose a proper detective outfit: black jeans, black Mary Janes, black cardigan, and black beret. She checked herself in the mirror and nodded.

"Panther." She shook the whippet.

He yawned. "What? Go away. I'm on vacation." He covered his nose with both paws.

"Panther Bloom—" Footsteps in the corridor startled Lilith. "My medicine!" She grabbed the vial, shook out a capsule and twisted it open. Inside resided the powdered drug that was supposed to make her pay attention in class. She despised it. It dulled her senses, made her feel stupid and sluggish, and turned life boring. Smells lost their intensity, houses stopped moving, and her heart slowed down. It also caused insomnia, requiring her to take sleeping pills. She slept but saw no dreams.

To sum it up, on pills Lilith didn't feel herself.

She ran to the bathroom, dumped the powder out of two capsules, closed them, flushed the toilet, and returned just in time for her mother to enter.

"You're awake!" Gabby said, astounded. "And dressed." She took a lock of Lilith's hair, feeling it like yarn. "And you took a shower without me reminding you."

"Good morning to you too, Mother," Lilith said nicely. "You will be pleased to know that I'm planning to socialize today. I want to get to know every guest, to make a good impression. To compensate for my atrocious behavior."

"Really?" Her mother looked surprised.

"Really. And I'm taking my pills like you asked me to."

She needed to get her mother out of the way today. Exaggerating every gesture, Lilith placed two empty capsules on her tongue, grabbed a bottle of water from the bedside table, took a swig, and swallowed.

"I can't believe my eyes. What changed overnight?"

"Um..." Lilith started, very tempted to say, Well, grandfather woke me up with chopping noises. He decapitated dead people with an axe. Then their heads appeared on the wall and wouldn't shut up, not letting me sleep. Then I discussed with Panther, who can talk by the way, how we're going to stop grandfather from murdering more innocents, because we think— well, I think—he feeds them to the garden. That's what makes his roses so bloody red. Naturally, we devised a plan to uncover his true intentions for the Bloom family reunion. Aside from this, and aside from the fact that the garden's stench makes me want to puke, nothing else significant happened.

"Perhaps I was bitten by a flea? A German flea? I heard German fleas bite worse than American ones," Lilith said, staring at Panther who stretched, wagging his tail. He pretended he didn't hear. Gabby did, however.

"Lilith!" she chastised her daughter. "That's not a very sensible thing to say. Germany is the land of your ancestors. You have to respect your roots. Blooms date back to the thirteenth century, to Ludwig Bloom—"

"Who traveled to Berlin and discovered a wild rose garden," Lilith finished. "Mom, I know. I'm just—can we go eat? I'm hungry." Her stomach grumbled in agreement, having seen only a morsel of breakfast the day before. That, coupled with a lot of running around, made Lilith a very ravenous girl.

"We'll have breakfast in a minute."

"Mom? Where is dad?"

"Busy."

"Busy doing what?"

"He'll join us later, don't worry. We wanted to talk to you," Gabby continued, "but your grandfather—he's very pleased that you've shown such an avid interest in his garden. I'm talking about your escapade yesterday. I have an entirely different opinion about that, by the way. We will talk about it, missy, don't think I'll forget. Wait. I've lost my train of thought." She pressed on her temples. "Ah, yes. Your grandfather. He wants to spend the whole day with you. He has something important to tell you."

Lilith's heart sunk.

"Be nice. Eat fast, please. He's waiting for you in the garden." Gabby pushed up her glasses. "He wants to tell you about his announcement. Personally." She smiled. It meant that the matter was serious.

Lilith swallowed, feeling dizzy. "Why can't you tell me?"

"Lilith, are you listening? He's taking you on a garden tour. It's an honor, and I expect you to behave." Gabby fixed a knitting needle behind her ear. "Anyway, your dad wants to go to a whippet race. We'll have breakfast in Berlin and be back by dinner. You okay?" Gabby asked, her knitting needle falling as she bent to examine her daughter.

Lilith paled. The prospect of spending an entire day with her grandfather after deducing that he might be a murderer sucked all the courage from her almost thirteen-year-old heart. What could be so important about this announcement? Panther, always aware of Lilith's moods, pawed on her jeans until she picked him up. His warmth made her feel better.

"Yeah, fine. Just hungry."

"You sure? You don't look so good."

Panther coughed, producing something close to, Said the queen of the ugly.

Lilith pinched him. "I'm fine. Can we please go?"

"Okay then." Gabby turned on her heels, blatantly ignoring Panther, who didn't suffer much, blatantly ignoring her in turn.

On unbending legs, Lilith followed her mother into the vestibule. From here she could see guests already milling about in the dinner hall, piling plates high with waffles, spooning yogurt into bowls, and pouring coffee. Gabby quickly pecked her good-bye, Daniel waved from their rental car, and they took off.

"So much for being worried sick about me," muttered Lilith, shutting the front door. "What was that for?"

"What?" Panther innocently looked up.

"You know what. The ugly joke."

"Oh, that. I duly apologize, but your mother is not my beauty ideal. Not furry enough," growled Panther. "Can you bring me some steak for breakfast? Please?"

"I can't believe you have the nerve to ask for it." She slid on Panther a collar that hung from a leash fixed by the door, and stomped into the hall without a glance back.

Bouquets of fresh roses graced the table, their petals painfully red. Lilith cringed, trying not to think about the source of such vivid color.

"Eat. I need to eat," she muttered, picking out a place to sit and automatically greeting people.

The Blooms were a very large family, its legacy firmly rooted in the gardening business. Naturally, most Blooms were floral experts, cousins and second cousins and third cousins to Ludwig Bloom's direct descendant, Alfred Bloom. He and his late wife, Eugenia, had a son, Daniel Bloom, who in turn had a daughter. Lilith. It meant that one day the Bloom mansion and its rose garden would belong to her.

The entire property. I will own this entire property. Since dad's idea of a garden is to mow it clean and make it into a dog-race field, maybe grandfather is hoping that I can sway him to keep it. Or, wait. Maybe...maybe he wants to avoid dad altogether? Lilith froze. Could that be what grandfather announced yesterday? Giving the property over to his granddaughter? It never occurred to her until now, and it made her even more determined to uncover its secrets. No way she'd want to own a murderous garden that ate people. Never.

Lost in thought, Lilith pulled out an unoccupied chair. Immediately, everyone at the table turned to look, asking her the typical empty questions about how she slept and how come she's not at the race with her parents and what her plans were for the day and does she like the garden. Lilith frowned, her suspicions confirmed. The day before hardly anyone noticed her.

The Schlitzberger twins arrived and plopped down on either side of her.

"We heard you got lost yesterday," Daphne said with a nasty smile, stacking her plate with waffles.

"In ze rose garden," Gwen added, grabbing a roll.

Daphne slapped her sister's hand. "Zat iz mine! I saw it first." They proceeded to bicker at each other.

Lilith scanned the table for Ed. Disappointed, she turned to face the twins.

"Incidentally, one of my favorite pastimes is searching for bones of dead people," she said. "You know, skulls and such. I cover the best specimens in fluorescent paint and dangle them at night in front of people's windows. Took me a while to find one yesterday. It's a nice one, though; has all of its teeth intact. What room are you staying in, by the way?"

Daphne's face lost color. "Mutter!" she squealed, pointing at Lilith and firing off a string of German words.

Irma Schlitzberger, squeezed into a purple sweater no doubt of Gabby Bloom's handiwork, leaned over.

"Tsk-tsk, Daphne. It iz not nice to speak in German in front of your friend, when your friend doez not understand a word. Am I right, child?"

Other guests watched the exchange with interest.

Lilith's face turned hot. "Excuse me. I thought I mentioned it before. I'm not a child—"

"Aber Mutter, sie..." Daphne interrupted, throwing shrill words at her mother, which Irma returned with scolding remarks. Meanwhile, Gwen stole the roll from her sister's plate and stuffed it into her mouth.

"Hello." Someone tapped on Lilith's shoulder. She turned.

A boy around ten stood by her chair. He had a very smart look about him, his dark hair neatly parted in the middle. He smelled like hair gel.

"Um, my name is Patrick. Patrick Rosenthal. I'm from Seattle. I came here for the Bloom family reunion. It's very nice to meet you, cousin." He stretched out his hand in a practiced movement, his face splitting into a practiced smile. Even his speech sounded practiced.

"And, um...this is my sister, Petra." He pushed a little girl ahead of him, barely seven. She had an aura of sugary sweetness about her. It was the girl who demanded more cake, Lilith remembered.

"Hello!" she said brightly. "I'm Petra. What's your name?" Petra grinned, showing a missing tooth.

"Lilith Bloom."

Petra pressed a piece of paper into her hand. "It's a letter from our cousin Ed. It's probably a love letter. Our cousin Ed—"

"Petra!" Patrick said sternly. "He's not our cousin, he's a step-cousin. We're not even related. Mom told you—"

"Sabrina Rosenthal. Delightful to meet you." A woman shook Lilith's hand, and Lilith recognized—with horror—the face of one of the heads; the one with the angular jaw.

"There she is, the lovely girl. You were hiding from us, weren't you? Norman Rosenthal. I happen to be your father's only second cousin." A heavy-set man, the grown-up version of Patrick, shook Lilith's hand. Lilith felt numb. His face belonged to the other head. Gripping her chair, she soon found herself surrounded by a crowd of relatives eager to chat.

"Trude Brandt, young mädchen," said an old lady, Lilith's room neighbor. Lilith thought she looked better with the green paste on her face. "I will talk to your grandfather about your behavior." She shook a gnarly finger.

"Hanna Haas." A mousy looking woman with large teeth and even larger glasses pushed forward a wheelchair. "My mother, Heidemarie Haas."

Heidemarie resembled a dried out ghost sitting amidst blankets, her eyes blind. She seized Lilith with shaky hands, palpating her face and relaying something to Hanna.

"My mother says you look just like your father, when he was your age. My mother says—"

Sabrina interrupted, asking something. Petra talked over Sabrina, Patrick talked over Petra, and Daphne talked over everyone else. Voices turned into a blur, smells mixed into a suffocating reek, and just when Lilith thought she couldn't take it anymore, another horrible sigh penetrated the air.

Lilith not so much heard it as she felt it, jumping from freight. Nobody seemed to notice a thing. Her heart thumping wildly, excusing herself left and right, she gorged her food, eager to escape into the garden to start her investigation in earnest.