LOGINI can hardly believe it. Before my friends can say anything else, I squeal and throw my arms around them both, jumping up and down. Liam and Brian and the twins are the one major thing I’ve missed dearly since leaving Bo’Arrocan, and to find that they’re finally considering living in Ordan full time
“On schedule, believe it or not,” I reply. “The Bo’Arrocan branch is finally running smoothly, and the Ordan location just graduated its first class of seniors. Six of them got full scholarships to prestigious art schools.”“That’s amazing, Iris.” Alice squeezes my arm. “You’ve created something tru
IrisFive Years Later…“Fifty years of marriage, and they still make each other laugh like that,” Arthur says, appearing at my side with two glasses of champagne. He hands me one and clinks his against it, and we watch as my parents twirl on the lawn, my mom throwing her head back at something my fa
“Gee. Thanks,” I manage to laugh weakly. “I’ll see you all next week.”“You most certainly will not,” Arthur, Hunter, and Alice all say in unison, making me roll my eyes.Outside, Arthur’s car is waiting, parked haphazardly half on the curb. He must have driven like a maniac to get here so quickly f
IrisEight months later…“And that’s why the colors on this side of the color wheel are considered ‘cool’ colors,” I explain to the class of children sitting in a semicircle around me. “They remind us of water, ice, and the sky.”I’m demonstrating on a large color wheel chart when a sharp pain rips
And through it all, Augustine’s breathing grows slower, shallower.Then, quietly and calmly, she goes.Her hand turns limp in mine. The steady beeping of the heart monitor flatlines. The doctor steps forward, checks for a pulse, then shakes her head.“Time of death, 10:47 AM,” she says quietly.I br
IrisThe Skyline restaurant is located on the top floor of one of Ordan’s tallest buildings, thus offering a panoramic view of the city lights below. From here, I can see the entire city stretched out below me—the dense clusters of buildings in the center city, the streetcar wending its way through
“Lovely,” she says. “We were thinking, actually, that we’d like to purchase one of your pieces. Something to display prominently in the foyer of our home.”For a moment, I’m too stunned to respond. These are the same people who once looked at me like I was something they’d scraped off their shoes. T
IrisI take a deep breath, fidgeting with the edge of my sleeve as I stand just outside the gallery doors. The space is already packed with people—way more than I expected. Through the glass, I can see photographers, journalists, and what looks like at least a hundred guests milling about with champ
She shows me a storage closet where black mold grows freely on the ceiling. “I bring my own supplies most days,” she admits. “I can’t stand the thought of these kids not having at least one bright spot in their day, so I use part of my paycheck to buy new stuff.”By the time I leave Eastside, my blo







