Iris's POV

The knock on my bedroom door came mid-afternoon.

I’d been lying on top of the covers in the dark, high-neck top sticking to my back, counting the hours until the next suppressant dose. Three left. The heat hadn’t broken. If anything it had settled deeper, a constant low burn under my skin that made every sound and scent in the house feel too sharp.

“Iris?” Chloe’s voice. “Your dad let me in. Can I come in?”

I sat up too fast again and the room tilted.

“Yeah," I said, voice shaky. "One second.”

I dragged a cardigan over the high-neck top even though the room wasn’t cold, checked...