Iris pov.My heart was still racing from Vince’s hands on my skin when I answered Mom’s call. The second I heard her voice, a little too cheerful, I knew something was wrong. “I have to go, I'll be back soon.” I barely mumbled an excuse to Vince, who nodded like he understood and grabbed my blouse (missing two buttons, thanks to him), and flew out of that penthouse like the building was on fire. The drive home was a blur of red lights and honking horns. I kept thinking about her words, “Iris, baby, can you come home right now? I need to see you before I go.”I got to the house as fast as I could and parked the car hastily, and got out of it mumbling. “Where was she going to?”I opened our front doorand noticed the living room light was on, and there she was, bent over an open suitcase on the couch, folding her favorite blue sweater. My gaze went around the room in a flash, noting another bag sat by the door, already zipped. “Mom?” I dropped my purse and rushed over, breathing hard.
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