Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Switch off. That’s what I need to do. Switch off from Iris. I just wish I could find a button that could erase her from my mind. I’ve done everything I can to find her. I even spoke to a private detective who said without more to go on, he couldn’t help me.
She doesn’t want to be found. I have to accept that.
I’ve always been so good at not fighting against things I can’t change. I’ve never wanted to waste my energy. Why am I finding it so difficult this time?
As we get to the bottom of the mountain, the ground flattens out and simple wooden fencing appears on Byron’s side of the vehicle.
“This is a fruit farm,” he says. “The Wildes are a good family. You know they still don’t grow apples because that was my family farm’s fruit.”
“An unspoken agreement?” I ask.
“Yeah. And now we’re getting the orchard back up and running, it won’t be for nothing.”
“You’re getting your family’s orchard up and running?” I ask.
“Not me. Not really. I donated the land to the town, so it’s like a cooperative of the people who want to be involved.”
“That’s a lovely idea,” Worth says from the back seat.
Byron slows down as we pass the entrance to the farm. “Yeah. So the two fruit farms will still exist in harmony.”
Farther up the drive into the farm, there are a couple of vehicles parked and a woman with long blonde hair is putting something in the back of a truck.
I swear, it looks exactly like Iris.
Not that I’ve even ever seen her with her hair down. I turn away from the window and close my eyes. Images of Iris have followed me to Star Falls. I’d hoped a change of scene would keep them away.
“Do they supply the Club?” Worth asks from the back.
“Yeah. We use as many local suppliers as possible. Anyway, the fruit from Wilde’s is incredible. If we were having breakfast at the Club, that’s where it would be from.”
I bite back a grin at Byron trying to sell the Club to us, like we don’t know it’s the best, and I keep my gaze straight ahead. I don’t want to catch a glimpse of any more Irises.
Byron made the road sound like some monster truck route without the monster truck, but we’re pulling up outside the diner in no time.
Fisher pulls up right next to us. “Waffles!” he says as he gets out of the car, gazing at the diner like he’s possessed.
Byron tugs at my jacket. “Let’s go see Marv and his owner, Marge, get you some hiking gear, and then join the rest of them.”
I shrug. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway.
“Marge will have you set up in ten minutes. The rest of them can wait to order.”
Byron was right, Marge looked me up and down and the only thing she made me try on was shoes—which fit perfectly. So I pay, and ten minutes after we left them, Byron and I join the rest of the group in the diner.
As we enter, the redheaded waitress who always gives Byron shit has her back to us, talking to someone in front of her. She turns and steps toward us, revealing who she was talking to.
A petite woman with long blonde hair comes into focus.
More images of Iris.
I just can’t shake them. I can only see her in profile as she’s talking to someone through the kitchen pass, but it looks just like her.
It really looks like her.
Iris?
It can’t be.
I must be mistaken. When she turns, I’ll realize it’s not my Iris. Then I might have to make an appointment to see a neurologist. Or a shrink or something.
I’m rooted to the spot, waiting for her to turn, waiting for my madness to be confirmed. I can’t move. I can’t even turn my head so I can focus on something else. It can’t actually be Iris. These goddamn hallucinations.
I’m vaguely aware of someone—Worth, I think—calling my name, but I can’t answer. I can’t focus on anything but the woman in front of me and the curve of her neck. The jut of her chin and her elegant profile. It really looks like her.
The room tilts a little, and I can’t seem to get my breath. I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not anymore.
The woman laughs and I want to reach out to her, move her to face me so I can see for certain that it’s not Iris.
What seems like hours later, she finally turns.
And screams.
Fruit hits me in the face and the chest and everyone around Iris and me charges into action.
It’s only me who doesn’t move.
Me and Iris.
ELEVEN
Iris
Two universes collide inside me and I can’t breathe as the energy from both crash together. Waves of confusion and excitement and horror collide. I’m hot. And cold. And I feel nothing and everything at the same time.