The tag read Iris, then another name beneath it: June. Volunteer Hana assumed one was the plant and one its donor. When she checked the planting book, neither matched the recorded variety.
The glasshouse keeper named pots after the friends who helped tend them. Iris and June shared responsibility for the same plant because neither could visit every week. After both women died, the keeper retained their tag while copying the botanical information into a separate register.
Hana found letters in which the women exchanged news through watering instructions. Too much sun meant a difficult week at home; needs company usually meant one of them did. The private meanings were not consistent enough to decode every note, and she resisted trying.
She added a proper identification label beside the old tag rather than replacing it. Visitors could learn what the plant was without losing the record of who cared for it. On the first warm morning of spring, she opened the glasshouse door and found that the two names looked less like a puzzle than an attendance list still waiting to be read kindly.