IRIS
“So what do you guys do here?”
I glance over my shoulder at Rose. She’s sitting on the floor of the attic, on one of the twin mattresses, with her arms pulled all the way inside her hoodie, wrapped around herself. She must still be cold.
Sol asked me to help her settle in while he has one of his private Growth Sessions with Lily in his bedroom. He says Rose will share the attic with Zinnia, Poppy, and me, news that delighted Zinnia in particular but has left me nervous about the change.
The drafty attic, with its creaky wooden floorboards, is my favorite room in the cabin, despite how cramped it has become.
When I first arrived, this had been Lily’s room.
She slept on the double bed while I slept on an old mattress on the floor.
When Poppy and Zinnia arrived a few months later, the sleeping arrangements changed.
I opted to keep my little mattress, while Poppy took the bed and Sol bought another twin mattress for Zinnia.
Lily moved into Violet’s room—the bedroom downstairs, next to Sol’s.
It took some adjusting at first, but Zinnia, Poppy, and I have made the small room work for us.
We keep our spaces clean, and we are patient and forgiving with one another when it comes to privacy.
I feel safe in the attic. Before Lily brought me into the hollow, safe hadn’t been something I’d felt in a while.
But now things are changing again.
I can hear Sol’s voice in my head already, warning me against the pitfalls of selfishness, reminding me of how much he and the other girls here have shared with me. So I don’t complain about this change.
“Iris?” Rose says, tilting her head so that tangled black hair falls into her face. “Did you hear me?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I clear my throat. I’d just been standing there, staring down at her and the small room we’d all be sharing. “What did you ask?”
“What do you do here? This place is a long walk from town. You must keep yourselves busy somehow.”
“We do,” I say. “Really, there’s always something to do. Cleaning the house, preparing food, laundry, working in the garden, and Sol has taught a few girls how to hunt. Only the older girls go into town much.”
She wrinkles her nose a little. “Sounds like a lot of chores.”
“It is, but it’s kind of nice, honestly. Keeping busy helps avoid dwelling too much on the negative. Sol says hard work fosters a focused mind. And doing things with the other girls can be a lot of fun.”
“I guess that makes sense. It might be nice to not have the time to think so much about … everything.”
Neither of us needs to elaborate. No one with a perfect life ends up in the hollow. We all have something dark in our pasts, some source of pain that left us lost and alone before Sol saved us. We all know this, without having to say a word. We can recognize it in each other. Like knows like.
“So where’d you come from?”
“What do you mean?” I ask as I climb onto Poppy and Zinnia’s bed in order to reach the shelves where the extra blankets and pillows are kept.
“You don’t sound like you’re from around here,” she explains. “You’ve got a different accent from the other girls.”
“Huh. I guess I do. Haven’t really thought much about it.”
“I’m not from here either,” she offers. “I’m from up near Cincinnati. So I was curious.”
I pull down a mostly flat pillow and drop it onto the bed before reaching up for another. “We, um … we don’t really talk about that here. Where we came from before, I mean.”
“That’s right!”
Rose and I both turn to look at the open doorway, where Lily stands, cheeks rounded in that familiar warm smile.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting. Just thought I’d come check to see if y’all need any help?”
“You’re not interrupting,” I assure her. “But I think I got it covered. Just getting Rose some bedding.”
Lily plops down into a sitting position beside Rose on the mattress. “How are you feeling, Rose?”
It takes Rose a moment to respond, as if she doesn’t realize she’s the one being spoken to at first. Then, when it registers, she gives a quick nod. “Yeah. Just … figuring things out.”
“Well, it’s so nice to have you here with us. I know you’re gonna love it here as much as we do.”
Lily, along with Violet, is one of the oldest girls here, somewhere just over the edge of twenty, though she is also the shortest among us, at least a foot shorter than Poppy and Zinnia, who tower over everyone, save for Sol, at nearly six feet.
Lily’s the peacemaker, always smiling, always encouraging.
She is the one who holds our hands when the day’s hard work isn’t enough to stave off some sadness or braids our hair when we are emotionally drained after one of Sol’s Growth Sessions.
Whenever any of us bicker, she is the one to step in.
And no one—except maybe Violet—ever seems bothered by this.
Because it’s impossible to be angry with Lily.
“You said you don’t talk about where you came from?” Rose asks.
“We,” Lily corrects gently. “You’re one of us now, hon. And yeah. You got that right. We don’t dwell on the past here. Don’t matter where we came from; only matters where we’re going. Who we are right here, right now.”
“We’re given a fresh start here,” I say, tossing the other pillow to my feet and dragging down an old quilt.
“That’s right.” Lily gives me an approving smile that makes me feel a little surge of pride.
It’s the same warm feeling I would get in elementary school when the teacher put a shiny gold star on my spelling homework.
“Letting go of the past—starting over—that’s what’ll help us all grow into the best versions of ourselves. Then we can bloom.”
Rose’s painted lips curve into a smile for the first time since she walked through the front door. “Gotta admit, that does sound nice,” she says. “Starting fresh, I mean.”
“You’re in the right place, then. Because that’s what it’s all about here.
And like I told you, you won’t have to do any of it alone.
You’ll have all of us to help.” Lily gets to her feet and takes the pillows I pulled down a minute ago, moving to arrange them neatly on Rose’s mattress before tossing Zinnia’s onto the bed she’ll be sharing with Poppy now.
“You just gotta be willing to put in the work.”
“I can work hard,” Rose says.
“Then you’ll do just fine. Speaking of blooming, though, Iris, am I right that your one-year anniversary here is coming up real soon?”
“Yeah,” I say, hugging the quilt I just retrieved from the shelf to my chest, like I need it to muffle the nervous and excited thump of my heart. “Next week.”
“That’s a big deal,” Lily says. Her expression turns a little more serious. “How you feeling about it? Looking forward to it?”
I nod. I don’t have the words to accurately convey the feelings that overtake me every time I think about my upcoming anniversary. Even if I did, I’m not sure it’s something I could talk about with Lily or Rose.
“The one-year marker is a big deal around here,” Lily explains to Rose. “We have a whole rite of passage kinda thing. Only me and Violet have done it before, but still. It’s exciting. You take on more responsibility.”
I climb off the bed, carrying the quilt over to Rose and offering it to her in hopes of ending this conversation. “You, um, seem like you’re still cold.”
The corners of her mouth tilt farther upward. “Thank you,” she says as her arms snake out from her hoodie. Her pale hands grasp the quilt, and she wraps it around herself.
“It is awful chilly up here. Now that Rose knows where she’s sleeping, why don’t we head down and sit by the fire?” Lily suggests. “Get you warmed up before we eat. Violet’s making dinner with Poppy and Zinnia. Smells real good down there.”
“Fire would be great,” Rose says, the rasp in her voice sharpened by desperation at the prospect of warmth. She gets to her feet and moves toward the door with Lily.
I follow, stopping to glance back at the attic once more. I can’t shake the feeling that, from this moment on, this space, this safe haven, is going to change for me. I hadn’t had this same sense of an impending shift when Poppy and Zinnia arrived. I can’t place what it is that has me on edge.
“You coming, Iris?” Rose is looking over her shoulder at me, waiting halfway down the steps, with Lily already moving ahead.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
I take the top steps two at a time so I can catch up with her. She still has the quilt wrapped around her, its navy-and-white pattern somehow a perfect complement to the red of her lips.
“Tonight’s gonna be a wonderful welcome,” Lily says as she makes her way toward the living room, where the fireplace is lit with orange flames and the old TV plays Elf on mute.
The smell of cooked ham and the tinkling sound of Zinnia’s laughter float on the air, coming from the kitchen.
“We’ll have a nice dinner, and then after will be the best part. ”
“What’s the best part?” Rose asks as she curls up on the old brown couch, curious eyes moving between me and Lily as I take a seat on the end opposite her.
Lily goes to turn off the TV and DVD player. She looks to me, still beaming. “Tell her, Iris. Tell her the best part of being here.”
“Sol,” I say. His name leaves my lips without a thought, without question or hesitation. I look over at Rose. “Tonight, after dinner, you’ll get to have your first Growth Session.”