IRIS
We never have visitors. The only tires that ever roll down that dirt road are the ones on Sol’s truck. So when we hear the sound of a car engine approaching the cabin, we all know something is wrong.
“Is that a cop car?” Zinnia asks, pressing her face to the living room window.
“What?” Sol stands from the dining table, where he and a few of us are finishing our dinner of fried bologna sandwiches, and comes to look out of the window with Zinnia. His face immediately turns to stone, expression unreadable and jaw set. “Zinnia, Poppy, Rose—you three get upstairs. Now.”
“Why?” Rose asks, carrying her plate to the sink. “What’s going on?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. “Now go.”
Poppy doesn’t need to be told a second time. She’s already halfway up the stairs before Rose and Zinnia have even begun to trudge their way toward the attic.
“Iris, come outside with me,” he says. “I suspect they’re here about your little incident at the grocery store last week.”
I’ve been frozen in place, standing next to the kitchen table, ever since Zinnia mentioned the possibility of police outside.
My heart has stopped beating. My hands shake holding my empty plate.
And all I can think about is the other times cops have shown up at the place I was living, and the world-altering fallouts that have come after.
“Iris,” Sol says. “Come on. The others will clean up the kitchen.”
I pass my plate to Lily before shambling over to the front door. Outside, I can hear the engine cut and the car doors slam. “Is Mr. Brophy pressing charges?” I whisper to Sol. My stomach drops at the thought that I’m about to lose my sisters, my home, everything.
“Why did he wait?” He grits his teeth. “And how do they even know where we live? Never mind. It doesn’t matter now. Let me do the talking, and try to look remorseful.”
There is nothing to try. I am remorseful.
Not about stealing from the old man—I’m sure he’s fine—but about being caught and putting Sol and the other girls in a potentially bad position.
I wish I’d never been sent into town. I wish we’d gone a day or two without eating and just waited for Lily and Violet to be over the flu.
Because if Zinnia or Poppy or Rose get taken away—sent back to bad homes or put into foster care—and it’s my fault? I’ll never be able to forgive myself.
And if I get taken away, if I’m out there alone again? I can’t even think about that.
Sol opens the door just as the two plainclothes officers are stepping onto the front porch. “Good evening, Officers,” Sol says, putting on a Southern accent I’ve never heard him use before as he steps outside and gestures for me to join him before closing the door behind us.
“Evening, sir,” one of the cops, a middle-aged man with dark brown skin and thick graying curls, says with a nod. His eyes fall on me, and he offers a second nod. “And young lady. I’m Officer Morris, and this is Officer Harrington. How are y’all doing tonight?”
“We’re just fine,” Sol says. “Is there something we can help you with?”
“We got a call from one of your neighbors in town,” says Officer Harrington, a younger woman with a brown braid hanging over her shoulder. “We were hoping to speak to you and the other residents of this house.”
“A neighbor in town?” Sol repeats, brows furrowing like he’s trying to understand something.
Then he sighs and shakes his head, looking down at me before turning back to the officers.
“Was this Mr. Brophy? From the store? I know he and my daughter here had a … well, altercation feels like too strong a word. My girl’s going through a bit of a rebellious phase, I’m afraid.
But she apologized to him about the items, and things seemed settled. ”
Hearing Sol call me his daughter feels like having my head shoved into a bucket of ice water.
I’m not angry at him for it. It’s a reasonable lie in this situation.
But having anyone call me their child feels startling and uncomfortable.
Part of me feels guilty, as if even allowing this deception is some sort of betrayal.
“We don’t know anything about all that,” Officer Morris says. “We were just asked to come do a wellness check.”
“Wellness check?”
“Yes, sir. A neighbor claims you have several young women living here,” Officer Harrington says. “They were concerned about their well-being and asked us to come check in.”
Sol laughs. “Several young women? Now, I’m afraid whoever called you made my living situation sound far more exciting and salacious than it really is.
” He rests a hand on my shoulder. “My daughter lives here, of course. And as you can see, she’s just fine.
The other women he’s referring to are probably my nieces. ”
Officer Morris turns to me with a smile. “What’s your name, miss?”
“Iris.”
“You doing all right out here, Iris?”
“Yes, sir. I’m fine.”
“Poor thing’s had a lot to adjust to, moving out here,” Sol says, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
“She’d been living with her mama up until a month or so ago.
Decided to come see how dear old dad does it out in the woods.
” He gives the cops a conspiratorial grin and lowers his voice when he adds, “I don’t think she realized she wouldn’t be able to get service out here.
No social media. I’m sure it’s driving her a little crazy. ”
Sol and Officer Morris have a very “kids these days” sort of laugh between them, but the younger woman, Officer Harrington, stays as stoic as ever, glancing past Sol toward the cabin windows.
“Mind if we step inside?” she asks. “Take a look around.”
Sol frowns at her. “Now, I hate to have to ask, but do you have a warrant?”
“We do not,” she says.
“Then I’m afraid I have to say no,” he says, sounding quite apologetic. “Call me old-fashioned, but I care a lot about my privacy. It’s why I’m out here, after all. I like being off the beaten path.”
Officer Harrington nods but says nothing.
“I do appreciate the concern for my little girl here and her cousins,” Sol says. “I’m not sure why anyone thought they were in a bad spot, but I’m happy to get them out here to show you they’re just fine.”
The cops agree that they’d like to check on my “cousins,” so Sol pokes his head inside and calls for Violet and Lily.
There must be some sort of plan in place I’m not aware of, though, because Violet, whose blond hair and blue eyes make her the most plausibly related to Sol and me, is the only one who comes.
She lies and says her sister is taking a nap.
Sol turns to the officers. “Do you need us to wake her up?” he asks.
“No need for that,” Officer Morris says before turning to Violet. He asks her a few questions, and she answers with a sweet smile and soft voice I’ve never heard from her before.
“I asked my uncle if I could come stay here after a bad breakup,” she explains when they ask what brought her out into the hollow.
“I needed to get offline, shut off my phone, all that stuff. And Uncle Sol offered to let me come out here. I ended up liking it so much, I stayed a while and told my sister to come, too. We’ve been treating it like a vacation.
And with Iris showing up recently, it’s been like a big slumber party. ”
Sol chuckles at that. “I’m outnumbered now,” he says.
I just listen, taking it all in. Violet’s a good actress, I’ll give her that. And this is clearly a story she’s had worked out for a while. But I can’t help wondering why. She’s a few years past eighteen. It’s not like she’s at risk of being dragged back to a home she hates.
I decide not to question it further, though, because it’s working. The cops listen to her and seem fairly satisfied by her story. Between that and Sol’s natural charm, I don’t think they are so worried about our well-being anymore.
“We’re sorry to have bothered you,” Officer Harrington says.
“Y’all have a nice night.” Officer Morris gives a nod before turning to walk back to the driver’s side of the cop car.
“You too,” Sol says.
“Drive safe!” Violet calls in an uncharacteristically friendly voice that sends a shiver down my spine.
Sol and Violet head back inside, and I’m about to follow them when I feel a hand on mine. I look down just as the female officer slips something into my palm. And then she’s gone—hurrying down the steps to join her partner in the car.
I open my fingers. It’s a business card with her name and phone number on it.
Officer Jessica Harrington, Culverton Police Department.
I stare at it for a moment, tempted to rip it in half and toss the pieces into the snow. But something holds me back, tells me to keep this for now.
“Iris?” I hear Sol call from inside.
I pocket the card and go in, closing the cabin door behind me.
Sol is standing by the fire now. His friendly expression is gone, replaced by that same stony face I saw looking out the window earlier. When he speaks, it’s with his usual accent, only the tone is deeper, darker, and far more tense than I’m used to hearing it.
“The old man couldn’t mind his own business,” he says, more to himself than to me.
Lily, who’d been waiting for us in the living room, walks over and places a gentle hand on Sol’s arm, looking up at him with her big, brown eyes. “I’m sure he thought he was doing the right thing,” she says. “He was just worried.”
“He’d have no reason to worry if someone hadn’t got caught trying to steal,” Violet sneers, arms folded over her chest as she stands, straight and rigid as a ruler, in the kitchen doorway.
All eyes in the room turn on me. Fear creeps up into my throat. This is my fault, and they are angry at me. They’ll kick me out. Send me away before I’ve ever even gotten to my second trial. Because I could have ruined everything. I could have put the younger girls in danger.
I try to swallow it down, but my voice croaks as I say, “I … I’m sorry.”
Sol shakes his head. “No more trips into town for the time being. For any of you.”
“What?” Violet asks. “But how will we make money? How will we eat?”
“We’ll figure something else out,” he says. “But I’m not arguing about this. No one leaves the hollow until I say so. Understood?”
Lily and I nod in agreement, even as the dread of what that will mean for our aching bellies fills the room. Violet glares at me with cold fury before she, too, nods in agreement.
“Good,” Sol says. “Because this will not happen again.”