Chapter 8
Iris’s mother opened the basement door before any of them could knock. The den beyond was comfortable enough, with a couple of old couches, a big TV, and previous generations of gaming systems. It was also pitch dark and cold with the electricity out for the first time Iris could remember. The lantern her father carried didn’t reach far.
“Carol, you need to keep this door locked unless you know it’s me,” he said, shaking his head.
She was thinner than usual, too, and the gray roots in her hair made the aging just as unsettling to Iris. She grabbed both young women at the same time in a breathless hug.
“I heard Iris on the stairs,” she said when she stepped back. “Y’all kept me waiting long enough. What are you two doing here?”
“Iris has been dreaming about Maple Ridge,” Gena
