Then, as if suddenly recalling something, she frowned and muttered, "But I remember Iris went out to buy groceries this morning. Why hasn’t she returned home yet? The market isn’t even on this street."
Her simple words made Wendel pause. His brows furrowed as he realized something about it felt off.
Esther continued, "Look—the post office is right over there. You don’t think... Iris is—?"
Before she could finish, Wendel’s expression darkened.
Ever since learning that Iris had found her biological parents, he had felt a growing sense of unease.
He couldn’t quite explain why.
Was he afraid that she would leave this home behind and return to her rightful place as a wealthy family’s daughter?
Or... was he afraid that if she left, he might never see her again?
With a complicated mix of emotions, Wendel returned home.
As soon as he stepped inside, he saw Iris squatting by the stove in the kitchen, tending to the fire.
Her small figure looked especially frail.
The summer heat made cooking unbearable, and sweat had already soaked through the back of her thin shirt.