Maybe I’m imagining it, but the way he saysfamilyfeels pointed, like he’s reminding me, not her, of this fact.
“But in that case,” he continues, “I’ll teach you how to swing one. Could be fun.”
“Sounds great.”
My eyes move past Sol and Rose to linger on the only other girl still awake.
Violet.
She’s standing in the hallway that leads to the two main bedrooms. Her icy-blue eyes are narrowed, darting between Rose and me. A frown—even more pronounced than usual—pulls at her mouth.
Sol walks over to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and turning her to face the other way down the hall. “Good night,” he says before the two of them disappear into the shadows.
“’Night!” Rose calls.
I say nothing, though. Violet’s look leaves a mix of dread and guilt to settle in my empty stomach. I’m sure she could read my mind, see all the thoughts I’ve had about Rose tonight. Despitethe fact that nothing has happened between us, I already feel like I’ve broken the rules.
My anxiety is only tamped down slightly when I feel Rose give my shoulder a shake. “Iris? You all right?”
“Huh? Yeah, sorry.” I try to be subtle as I put a bit of space between us. “Were you saying something?”
She purses her painted lips. But after a brief hesitation, she just says, “Come on. Let’s get to bed. It’s late, and you know we’re gonna have to get up at the buttcrack of dawn.”
I do manage to chuckle at this. “You’re still not used to getting up early?”
“Nope,” she says. “And never will be. Now come on.”
I follow Rose up the stairs and try to tell myself that whatever that look Violet was giving us was about, there’s no way she could actually know how I feel about Rose. It’s probably nothing I need to be worried about. That’s just her face. Just how she is. The sharp bite of her glare doesn’t mean anything.
But some deep instinct within me—intuition, maybe—tells me that Violet hadn’t liked something she saw when she looked at us. That maybe she’s right to be suspicious. And that soon enough, she will make it my problem.
IRIS
It’sabout two weeks after the police visited the cabin when Sol gives me my next trial.
I’m helping Lily wash clothes in the bathtub after dinner. We divided up our last couple cans of tomato soup tonight. Sol and Violet haven’t had any luck hunting since the incident at Mr. Brophy’s store, and the hunger in the cabin has reached a fever pitch. We’re all feeling weak, fatigued, and irritable. But Lily is doing her best to keep morale up while we wait for the tides to turn.
“Careful,” she says, catching me by the arm when I almost slip and fall into the tub full of water while I attempt to drop in an armful of clothing. The lack of food and sleep is taking a toll on my coordination.
I drop the armful of shirts and tattered jeans into the tub before rubbing my eyes. “Sorry.”
“It’sall right, hon,” she says, rubbing a reassuring circle on my back. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, because I know I’m feeling no worse than anyone else.
We sit on the edge of the bathtub, reaching down to swirl the clothes in the water to make sure they are thoroughly soaked before we pour in the soap.
“You know, I haven’t told you yet, but I like your hair short like this,” she says. “I miss braiding it, but I think it looks real good on you.”
Reflexively, I reach up and touch the soft fuzz of my hair, which has grown about half an inch since being shaved. “Oh, thanks.” I lower my hand and reach for the laundry detergent. “It’s … different. I’m still not used to it.”
“It took me by surprise when you did it,” she says. “But I really think it suits you. Your hair was pretty, but you’ve got a real cute face. You can pull it off.”
“Thanks, Lily. I appreciate that.”
Though if I’m honest, even her compliments make me feel a little guilty. Like I shouldn’t be allowed to appreciate them when the point was separating myself from my physical form. Still, it’s sweet that she’s trying to reassure me.
“Ibet your head gets cold, though.”
