“What are you doing, Iris?” Lance asked, spotting her crouched by the wall.

  “Spying on you, duh,” she grinned, looking up from the floor. “Your new dad seems like a cool dude. Plus, I saw him walk into Madame Hela’s office earlier—he’s got the look, you know?”

  Lance chuckled, matching her energy. “Yeah, he seems like a good guy. Finally… today I’m getting out of this dump. Can’t wait.”

  But Iris’s smile faded. She looked down at the floor, quiet.

  Sensing it, Lance tilted his head. “Hey… make sure to write me once a week, alright? I’ll be waiting. And when you get out of here too, first thing we’re doing—ice cream, just the two of us.”

  That earned a smile from her. She nodded. Together, they brought Lance’s luggage to the front door. With Iris’s help, it was done in no time. As they waited for Mr. Edwin to bring the car around, Iris suddenly spoke up.

  “Don’t you ever wonder what happened to your parents? Where they went? What really happened to them?”

  Lance raised an eyebrow. “Where’s this coming from?”

  “It’s just…” Iris paused, voice softer. “You’ve never really talked about it. You’re so neutral about the whole thing.”

  Lance stared off for a moment before answering. “I guess it’s because I was only six. I remember watching a scary clown movie before the carnival. It freaked me out—I refused to go, even though my parents tried to convince me. After that, everything’s kind of a blur. I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with them.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  He looked at her. “But you... you were ten, right? When your parents disappeared at the same carnival?”

  Iris nodded slowly. “Yeah. I had the flu that day. They dropped me off at my grandmother’s house. When the news hit, I still remember the look on her face—so hopeless. She changed after that. Barely spoke. Never left the house.”

  Lance listened in silence.

  “I had to start buying groceries, but I didn’t know how to cook. The only thing I could make was eggs. I made a lot of them.” She gave a dry, sad laugh. “But she wouldn’t eat. Barely drank. Just... faded.”

  Iris took a breath, her voice growing more distant.

  “One day, she called me. I was studying in my room, and I felt relieved—finally, her voice again. She stood outside her door and told me she had something important to do. She said not to disturb her, no matter what.”

  Iris looked away. “I thought she was getting better. It had been ten days since my parents vanished. So I waited. I didn’t make noise. I avoided her door.”

  Her voice cracked slightly.

  “Days turned into weeks. Then months. I ran out of money. The food spoiled. I didn’t know what to do. Finally, I gave in. I knocked on her door.”

  Lance leaned forward slightly.

  “No answer. I knocked again. Nothing.”

  She closed her eyes. “I turned the handle. It creaked open. And I saw her—hanging from the ceiling fan, her back to me. I didn’t understand. I was just a kid. I thought maybe she was floating or playing. I was scared, but I stepped closer... then I saw her face. And I froze. The fear was too much—I fainted.”

  Iris swallowed. “My teacher called the police after I missed school for too long. They said she’d been dead for months. Which means… that day she called out to me? That was her last day alive.”

  She exhaled deeply, as if a weight had been lifted.

  Lance looked at her for a long second. “Why ruin such a good day with a dark story like that? Haven’t I heard this, like, thirty times already?”

  Iris smiled gently. “I figured you might wanna hear it... one last time.”

  Then she looked past him. “Oh—Madame Hela’s coming. I better scram.”

  She ran off before Lance could say anything.

  Madame Hela stepped toward him, something in her hand