By day, Florence Harrow sells flowers for the grieving. By night, she slips into the mortuary, tending to the dead no woman is permitted to touch. But when the Spanish Flu drowns her town in death, it is not the mourners who knock at her door—it is Death himself. He offers her the reaper’s cloak meant for her husband. And Florence dares to accept. Yet it is not the reaping that unravels her. It is the whisper in the embalming room. The creak of the empty chair beside her table. The kiss of lips colder than marble. Her beloved has returned—not as the man she lost, but as the ghost who refuses to let go. Every kiss binds him closer to life… and drags her closer to the grave. Now Florence must make the cruelest surrender to a love that will devour her, or banish him forever, and choose the living.