So Rose either had no clue that her husband was a creep or refused to admit it. She fed all on the glorious negativity associated with law and politics in addition to adoring the upper-crust sound of Rose Collins-Connery, such elegant alliteration, and—
Fuck. I totally forgot about the party.
Honestly, that was typical. Iris tended to shove things she didn’t want to deal with out of her brain, and that worked fine until someone showed up to yell about how she’d let them down.
Like now.
At this point, she was pretty good at coming up with off-the-cuff lies to cover her own ass. This time, she decided to pretend this was an intentional decision, not a mental glitch. “Nobody will miss me,” she said lightly. “Something came up, so I’m not even in Ohio right now. Congratulate Rose for me, though.”
“Iris, please, just—”
“By the way, do you happen to recall how Great-Aunt Gertie’s powers worked?” If she had any.
“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”
“Because I’m curious, obviously.”
A long-suffering sigh slid out of her mother like a tire deflating. “Iris, tell me the truth. Are you in trouble again?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Are you boycotting this event because Lily is dating your ex? It’s not fair to punish Rose because you’re mad at Lily.”
Iris ignored that. “I have an appointment soon, so I need to go. Talk to you soon!” For once, Iris got the last word.
She disconnected while Mom was gearing up the interrogation, and that silence after she tapped the red phone icon felt like a huge victory.
* * *
Eli Reese wasn’t an internet stalker.
Which, come to think of it, sounded like something an internet stalker would say.
I should stop this.
It had been fifteen years since he first saw Iris Collins; he had been ten, and she was twelve. He had been a tiny kid, diminutive compared to the rest of his class. He couldn’t say he had a particular bully, one person devoted to making his life a living hell. But a few jerks took turns giving him shitty nicknames or knocking him over, and some of them took his stuff when he had something they wanted that he wasn’t big enough to protect. Those who didn’t participate looked away, in case they pissed someone off by standing up for him.
This was before his ability to shift kicked in, or he’d have had another means of escape. It would’ve been nice if he could’ve flown away from all the pain. Then came Iris, the rainbow after a violent storm. Honestly, it was embarrassing how clear and sharp his memory was, even after all this time. Roddy Frierson had shoved Eli down and was rummaging in his bag for Pokémon cards when an older girl strode up. She was in sixth grade, the highest level at Ridgecrest Elementary, and she had sunny brown hair in two braids, gray eyes brightened by outrage. She’d kicked Roddy right in the ass, tipping him over so he hit the floor next to Eli.
She took the bag away and handed it back. “Are you okay?” she’d asked.
Mutely, Eli had nodded, accepting her hand when she helped him up. Her hands were sticky from an open bag of gummy worms, and she offered him one. He ate it without hesitation, though he secretly thought gummy worms were freaking creepy. Bears were the way to go because they didn’t look like actual bears.
She’d folded her arms and glared at Roddy. “I’m bigger, and I picked on you anyway. You probably feel bad, huh? That’s how you’re making him feel, so stop it. If I hear about anybody bothering…” She paused, glancing at Eli. “What’s your name?”
“Eli Reese,” he said in a small voice.
“Eli again, I’m telling everyone. I’ll tell your teacher, the principal, and your parents. I’ll call your grandmother. Do you want that?”
Roddy burst into tears. “Don’t tell Nonna!”
Since they’d gathered an interested audience, the girl glared at everyone. “You’re all on my list! Anyone could’ve helped him, but none of you did. So cut it out, you cowards!”
The girl stomped off like an avenging angel, swinging her arms wildly. A bracelet slipped off her wrist, and he hurried to pick it up. Eli hadn’t known her name then, but he found out by asking around quietly. Iris Collins. Unbelievably, people left him alone after that. Well, they still used the mean nicknames, but he could live with that.
He carried the bracelet around for weeks. He should’ve given it back, but he couldn’t work up the nerve to interrupt when she was with her friends. Each time he tried, it felt like his insides were on fire, and he wound up running away. The next year, Iris went to middle school, and he saw her in passing when he got there later. But they never talked.
Because I didn’t have the courage to speak to her.
Then his parents died, and he moved to St. Claire to live with Gamma. At the new school, he kept to himself and read a lot of books, played computer games, and made friends online while telling himself the real world would be better. That summer, he finally inherited his dad’s ability to shift and unlocked a whole different world, one that didn’t care how tall he was or how many friends he had.
Gamma had shown him the online communities where he could connect with people like himself, but he’d never had the inclination to socialize. Pack shifters probably felt otherwise. At school, nobody paid much attention to him, and by the time he got a growth spurt late in his senior year, it irritated him to suddenly qualify as attractive. Classmates saw him with new eyes, and they wanted to date him, but he had no use for those who had treated him like he was invisible before. He left for college without looking back.
But over the years, he never lost track of Iris.
Eli had developed this habit of checking out her social media. Once a month, no more. He’d skim posts and look at pictures, trying to imagine what her life must be like. It wasn’t as if he was nursing a deathless love or something. He was just…curious about her. Because she’d changed his life in one moment, by caring, just a little, about someone nobody else at that school gave a damn about.
Yesterday, he’d inspected the attic; thankfully there hadn’t been any raccoons. And today, he had errands to run. Instead, he was staring at his phone. Today was the day he usually skimmed Iris’s socials. Last month, she’d been excited about the launch of her online jewelry business. He was already planning to order Gamma some earrings; she’d love the blue enamel flower ones.
Really, Eli had no idea if this was normal behavior, checking up on someone he’d gone to school with. It wasn’t like they’d been friends, although he wished they had. Making friends required talking to people, however, and Eli was bad at that. He was better with code and numbers, better where the data could be analyzed meticulously and relied upon to provide consistent results.
He was good at flying too. Soaring beyond the reach of human hands. There was no conversation above the treetops, just the occasional shrill call of distant birds. He saw so much, though, and it didn’t matter that he was a silent observer.
The thought came again. I should stop.
Even though his interest wasn’t harming anyone, it probably wasn’t healthy. Instead of following what had become a sort of comfort ritual—because it made him happy knowing she was out there, alive and well—he showered and went downstairs without looking at any of her accounts. Gamma had breakfast waiting, an odd assortment of toast, sausage links, sliced fruit, and hot tea. His grandmother had gone to the UK once, and she hadn’t quite gotten a handle on English breakfast, but she tried.