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“You’re a good kid, Iris,” Mom says, wrapping her arms around me.
Dad moves from his chair and comes over to me. “Yeah. The best daughter.” He hugs me too.
Something’s definitely gone wrong, I realize as they both squeeze me between them.
Mom and Dad never show me so much affection. It’s always Delilah who grabs both their attention.
Their sudden emotional hugs alarm me.
“I’m all ears when you want to tell me what’s wrong,” I say and stand up from the table. “You know I’m strong enough to deal with anything. Until then, I’m eating upstairs.” Grabbing my plate, I walk out of the kitchen.
After finishing breakfast, I dress up for work.
On my way downstairs, I knock on Delilah’s door. There’s no answer.
I turn the knob but the door is locked from the inside. “Are you sleeping?” I ask loudly.
There’s no reply.
“We’ll talk when I get back,” I holler anyway.
Hoisting my backpack higher on my shoulder, I head downstairs.
Mom and Dad are in the living room, sitting close by, and whispering between themselves. They usually like being loud and happy whenever Delilah is home.
It’s strange to see them acting so aloof from her.
I walk out of the front door and immediately notice a van parked outside our home. An ominous feeling comes over me as I gaze at the tinted windows that give no hint to who’s inside.
I have half a mind to demand they park away from our house but it’s too early to cause trouble. The ruckus would probably stress Mom and Dad worse.
Frowning, I choose to ignore the van and walk down the street to get to the bus stop.
A cool breeze blows by, kicking up swirls of red and gold leaves on the pavement. The sudden chill in the air reminds me of the coffee that I missed this morning.
The bus comes to a stop before me. I hurry inside and take a seat on the empty bench at the back.
The moment the bus drops me near the restaurant, I make up my mind to grab a pumpkin latte before heading to work.
I’m glad to see the usual flurry of activity happening inside the kitchen of La Cocina when I arrive. It’s almost cathartic to see everyone busily prepping for lunch hour.
I head into the employee locker room and get changed into my waitress uniform.
“Iris, hurry up!” Gaby, one of the waitresses calls for me. “The restaurant’s already filled up.”
I smile as I close my locker. Ethan’s reputation is growing by the day.
Lunch hour drags on, keeping me on my feet as I dash between the dining hall and the kitchen. Ethan stays busy as usual during rush hour, so I don’t get a chance to talk to him.
It’s late afternoon by the time the restaurant finally clears and we all get a break.
I walk out into the back alley to get some air. Ethan follows me and together, we walk toward our favorite coffee shop.
“My back hurts,” Ethan grumbles, stretching his arms over his head.
“Let’s park our asses in the shop while we have our coffee,” I say, feeling like my legs wouldn’t hold me up much longer.
“Sure. I could do with some food too.”
