“Theone-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.
“Youcoming, 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 playsElfon 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.”
IRIS
Ihad my first Growth Sessionwith Sol on the same night that he named me Iris.
I remember sitting in the old wooden chair in his room, listening to the winter wind whistling through the mountains outside the slightly opened window. My long blond hair was dirty and tangled; I had it pulled over my shoulder so I could run my fingers through the soft ends, a nervous habit that brought me some mild comfort. I’d been wearing the same long-sleeved shirt and jeans for three days, and I’m sure I smelled terrible.
But when Sol stepped into the room, he didn’t look at me with the pity or disgust I expected. That I thought I deserved. Instead, he gave me a friendly smile with those shining white teeth before taking a seat on the bed, facing me.
“Hello, Iris,” he said, his voice warm and smooth like melted butter. “How are you?”
“I’mgood.”
He tilted his head, frosty-blue eyes looking at me—through me—in a way that lifted goose bumps along my arms. “Is that really true, Iris?”
I lowered my head and curled in on myself, pulling my feet up on the chair to wrap my arms around my knees. I didn’t answer. He didn’t need me to.
“That’s what I thought.” He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, his gaze never leaving me. “But you’re here now. Things can only get better, right?”
“I hope so.”
“I know so,” he said. He reached up to push his own shoulder-length hair out of his face with a huff of amusement. “I’m guessing Lily gave you the rundown of this place and what we stand for here?”
“A little. She said you take in people with nowhere to go—help them get a fresh start.”
“That’s right. That’s why I give everyone a new name, too. Everything that happened before today is in the past. You get to start over, Iris. The ability to make yourself better—to be happier and stronger—is in your hands now.” He frowned. “Ugh. I’msorry. I sound like a salesman giving you my best pitch.”
“No. It … sounds nice, actually,” I said. Because for the six months leading up to that night, I’d watched my world fall apart. And what hadn’t fallen, I’d torn down. Starting over—and maybe even finding happiness—seemed like a dream.
“Good. And just know that I’m here to help you. Along with Lily and Violet.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say. Those were the only two words that felt right, and even they felt insufficient in the wake of this kindness. Of this hope he was offering to me on an outstretched hand.
“Don’t thank me,” he said, a small laugh chiming like a bell within his words. “Thank yourself. You’re the one making the choice to be here. You’re the one putting in the work. I’m just here to guide you. To give you a safe, supportive place to grow.”
