Chloe's POV

I was on the couch with my laptop open and a half-finished assignment neither of us was really winning when my phone lit up again.

I’d already checked it twice in the last ten minutes. Iris still hadn’t sent the “I’m home” text she’d promised on the library steps. Every time the screen stayed empty the worry tightened another notch. She’d looked worse today, not better, like she was holding herself together with stubbornness and a high-neck shirt.

The message that finally appeared wasn’t the one I expected.

Iris: is your Dad home?

I frowned at the screen.

Me: no, he went out. why?

The typing bubbles appeared,...