True Places(51)

The detective said, “I think that’s enough for now. But, Iris, just so we’re clear. The police have an obligation to try to find your father. We don’t need anyone’s permission.” A long silence. “And that goes for your mother, too. Because unless and until we find her body where you say it is, we can’t really be sure what happened to anyone.”

Iris screamed, “She fell! I tried to get her out! I tried!”

Brynn bit her lip. Iris’s quick steps receded from the living room.

“She’s coming upstairs.”

Brynn and Reid jumped to their feet, shoved the chair back in place, and ducked into the hall. Iris, her face red and scrunched in pain and anger, was rushing toward them, heading for her room.

Brynn moved in front of Reid and positioned herself by Iris’s door while not exactly blocking it. “Oh, Iris.”

Iris slowed and looked up at her with those anime eyes, welling with tears but also wary. Fair enough.

Reid said, “It’s gonna be okay.” He lifted his hand to touch her shoulder, then stuck his hand in his pocket instead.

Their mother appeared at the top of the stairs. Iris spun to face her. Iris’s eyes had darkened to deep violet and her jaw was set.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

Her mother inhaled sharply.

Brynn stepped closer and put an arm around Iris’s shoulder. The top of the girl’s head didn’t even reach Brynn’s chin. “I don’t blame you,” Brynn whispered. “Come with me.” Iris hesitated for one second before letting Brynn steer her away. When Brynn reached the door to her room, she turned to look over her shoulder.

“Brynn.” Her mother’s tone was stuffed with warning and mistrust.

“Mom.” Brynn coated her voice in chocolate. “I got this.”

“Brynn!”

Brynn pulled Iris into her room and shut the door before her mother lost it.

“Sit anywhere.” Brynn hoped Iris wouldn’t choose her bed. She was particular about her bed.

Iris went to the window seat. Where else?

Brynn picked up a nearly full Honest Tea—Moroccan mint green tea, her favorite—and handed it to Iris. “Here.” The Stray looked at it like it might explode. “You should always hydrate after crying.”

Iris wiped her eyes with the hem of her shirt. Brynn caught a glimpse of her belly, what there was of it. God, she was scrawny. Iris sipped the drink tentatively and handed it back to Brynn.

“Keep it.”

Brynn cast about her room for something of interest to Iris, something to calm her down. Unfortunately, nature was little in evidence. But maybe that was the wrong approach. Maybe Iris needed to see how fun it could be to not run around in the woods and eat rabbits. Brynn’s mom had been trying to teach Iris all sorts of things, very gradually—too gradually if you asked Brynn, which no one did—but none of Iris’s lessons could remotely be considered fun, except eating normal food, and Iris had the hang of that. No, if Brynn was going to get this weirdo out of her house and get her life back to normal, she’d have to do it her way.

Brynn carried a spare chair to her desk and waved Iris over. Iris perched on the edge of the chair. Brynn woke her laptop and clicked to a Facebook page. “Check this out. Prom is soon. That’s a dance where everyone gets super dressed up. No one cares about the dancing. It’s all about the dresses, the shoes, and all the rest. Want to see?”

Iris nodded carefully, as if she were an anthropologist being invited to dinner by cannibals.

Brynn scrolled through some photos, all of girls in formal dresses. “So these are my classmates. Not necessarily my friends. Everyone posts their dresses here. Tell me which ones you like, okay?”

“Okay.”

Brynn stopped on one of a girl in a hot-pink strapless sheath, very tight and skanky short. “Well?”

Iris said, “Is she your friend?”

“As if. I mean, no.”

“I don’t like the dress.”

“Why not?”

Iris considered. “Mostly the color.”

Brynn nodded. “Good call.”

They reviewed several more dresses together. Iris preferred simple designs and natural colors. What a shock.

“Tell you what,” Brynn said. “If you want, we can take some photos together before prom.”

“Why?”

Brynn ignored this. Where would she start? “You’d have to dress up.”

Iris frowned. “I don’t understand why you do this. Not just for this prom, but every day.”

“It’s fun. It’s decorating yourself, making yourself look good.”

“So people will like your photo on the computer?”

Maybe she wasn’t so dense. “Yes. So people, the right people, pay attention to you.”

Iris blushed. “I don’t think I want that.”

“Oh, I think you do.” Brynn picked up her phone from the desk and swiped a few times until she found Sam’s profile pic and showed it to Iris. “Well?”

“This boy is your friend?”

“Yup.”

Iris thought for a moment. “And he likes you because a lot of people pay attention to how you look in your photos?”

“Right.” Not that she would ever put it that way. She pointed at Sam’s photo. “Plus, he’s hot.”