Chapter 9
Bill Hicks had lost all of the dark brown in his thick, spiky hair since Iris had last seen him, but he was still every bit as intimidating. He’d grown a thick gray mustache to match, and he towered over her father.
Rita Hicks could easily be mistaken for someone’s kindly youngish grandmother, with her blond-streaked-with-gray hair pulled back in a sensible ponytail. She was almost six feet tall herself, and her figure was soft and matronly. That softness did not extend to her pale gray eyes.
“You remember Iris,” Haga said, closing the door behind her. “I didn’t catch her friend’s name.”
“I didn’t give it,” Iris said. She sat on the couch between her mother and Gena, with her father sitting on the arm.
“I’m Gena Wallace.”
“I’m certainly glad to see you again, Iris, and to m
