It was Sunflower's birthday, and she was turning eighteen. She knew now all her mother's secrets, and why she hadn't wanted to tell them to her.
Saying goodbye to her father had been very difficult. She had always wanted a father, and now that she had one, it had been very hard to let him go. But it wasn't like she never saw him again. He brought them everything they needed from the outside world, and so her mother never had to leave the tower.
Sunflower had awoken on her birthday, and saw her mother already awake, cleaning the tower. She was singing a song that Sunflower had often heard her sing while doing the morning chores.
"Mother," said Sunflower.
Her mother looked at her. "Hello, Flower. Would you like to help me with the chores?"
"Mother!" said Sunflower. "Today is my birthday!"
Her mother looked at her. "Your birthday? But I distinctly remember. Your birthday was last year."
Sunflower laughed. "Mother, birthdays are every year!"
Her mother smiled. "I know, Flower. I was just teasing. I'm making apple pie!"
Sunflower grinned. She loved apple pie.
"I love you, Flower," said her mother.
"I love you more," said Sunflower.
Her mother opened her arms. "I love you most."