If I Were Her

Chapter 19

Iris didn’t have class.

She checked her timetable once, then again, just to be sure.

Nothing.

She thought about going to the health center anyway. Just to not sit around doing nothing.

But she didn’t.

She stayed in her room, sitting on her bed with her back against the wall, her phone resting in her hand.

She wasn’t doing anything with it.

Just holding it.

Her screen lit up.

She looked down—

And picked almost immediately.

“Hi.”

“I was about to hang up,” the woman said, her voice warm in that easy, familiar way.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would have, actually.”

“You’re lying.”

A soft laugh came through the line.

“Maybe.”

Iris smiled, shifting slightly on the bed.

“How are you?” she asked.

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sound too calm.”

“I’m just sitting.”

“Mhm. Doing nothing, I’m guessing.”

“I don’t have class today.”

“Ahh. So this is one of your ‘I’ll just exist’ days.”

Iris let out a small laugh.

“I’m not just existing.”

“Okay,” she said, amused. “What have you done today?”

Iris paused.

“…I woke up.”

“Impressive.”

“I brushed my teeth.”

“Wow. We’re really aiming high today.”

Iris laughed again, quieter this time.

“Leave me alone.”

“I will not.”

A small pause settled between them.

“Have you eaten?” she asked.

“…not yet.”

“Iris.”

“I will,” she said quickly. “I just haven’t yet.”

“Mhm.”

Iris shifted, pulling one leg up properly onto the bed.

“How’s everything there?” the woman asked.

“It’s fine.”

“Your mum still watching time like a hawk?”

Iris exhaled softly.

“A little.”

“A little,” she repeated, like she didn’t believe that for a second.

“She means well.”

“I know she does.”

There was a brief pause.

Then—

“You know your dad tried to make coffee this morning.”

Iris blinked.

“…why would he do that?”

“He said he didn’t want to ‘stress me,’” she replied, already laughing. “So I let him.”

“That was your first mistake.”

“I realized that too late,” she said. “I walked into the kitchen and there was coffee powder everywhere. I’m not exaggerating. Everywhere.”

Iris laughed, covering part of her face with her hand.

“No way.”

“Yes way. I don’t know how he managed to get it on the toaster. Explain that to me.”

“That’s actually impressive.”

“It’s not impressive,” she said. “It was concerning.”

Iris shook her head slightly, still smiling.

“He shouldn’t be allowed near the kitchen without supervision.”

“That’s what I said,” she replied. “But he kept insisting he almost got it right.”

“Almost?”

“Iris, it didn’t even smell like coffee.”

That made her laugh again.

Properly this time.

There was a pause after that.

Softer.

“He misses you,” she added.

Iris’s smile faded just slightly, but not completely.

“I miss him too, mum.”

A small beat.

“I miss you guys.”

It came out easily.

Natural.

On the other end, the woman went quiet for a second.

Then—

“Say that again.”

Iris frowned a little. “What?”

“What you just said.”

“I said I miss you guys.”

“No,” she said gently. “The other part.”

Iris stilled for a second.

Then, quieter this time—

“I miss you… mum.”

There was a soft exhale on the other end.

“God,” she said under her breath, almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud. “I’ve missed that.”

Iris didn’t say anything.

But her expression softened.

“You don’t say it anymore,” she added, not accusing—just honest.

“I do.”

“Not to me.”

Iris huffed lightly.

“I just said it now.”

“And I heard it,” she said, a small smile in her voice.

A pause settled again.

Comfortable.

“Have you been sleeping?” she asked after a moment.

Iris hesitated.

“Yeah.”

“Mhm.”

She didn’t push.

“And the hospital?”

“I didn’t go today.”

“Because you didn’t have to or because you didn’t feel like it?”

“…both.”

“Fair.”

No lecture.

No tone.

Just that.

“I’ll go tomorrow.”

“I didn’t ask for your schedule,” she said lightly.

“I know.”

Another small pause.

“Just don’t disappear on me, okay?” she added.

“I won’t.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

A beat.

“I miss you,” she said again, softer this time.

Iris smiled faintly.

“I miss you too.”

“Eat something.”

“I will.”

“Iris.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

The call ended.

Iris looked at her phone for a second before setting it down beside her.

Then she leaned back, her eyes settling on the ceiling.

She stayed like that for a while.

Not thinking too much.

Just… feeling a little lighter.

_______________

Andrea exhaled softly after the call ended.

She didn’t sit for long.

Her phone rang again almost immediately after she put it down.

This time, she didn’t smile when she picked up.

“Yes?”

“Report.”

A pause.

Andrea’s voice straightened slightly.

“She’s stable,” she said. “Settling in well. Routine is consistent. No visible distress.”

A brief silence.

“Any progress on the parents?”

Andrea shifted her weight slightly.

“Not yet,” she replied. “She hasn’t said how she was found.”

“Still working on it?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

Then the tone changed.

colder.

“From your report,” the voice said, “she is integrating too smoothly.”

Andrea didn’t respond immediately.

“She is adjusting,” she corrected carefully.

“That is not the concern.”

Silence.

“She is becoming comfortable,” the voice continued. “Too comfortable. That is not the outcome we agreed on.”

Andrea’s jaw tightened slightly.

“She is a child,” she said quietly. “If she wants her parents—”

“She will choose what she is guided toward,” the voice cut in.

A pause.

Then, sharper—

“How do you plan to stop her from returning to them?”

Andrea didn’t answer immediately.

“She is not resisting anything yet,” she said. “She’s just… settling.”

“That is the problem.”

Silence stretched.

Then the voice came again, slower this time.

“You knew the plan, three months elapses, she denies her family and chooses yours.”

Andrea’s grip tightened on the phone.

“She is attached to them,” she said carefully. “I can’t erase that.”

A pause.

“You are not being asked to erase anything.”

Silence.

“You are being asked to redirect it.”

Andrea looked down slightly.

“She’s too far away,” she said, her voice lower now. “I can guide her, but I can’t control what she feels. If what I’m doing isn’t enough—”

That was when the line shifted.

“Goddammit,” the voice snapped. “Go live with them if you have to, I don’t care how you do it, get it done!”

Andrea went still.

The silence after it wasn’t empty—it pressed.

The voice continued, controlled again but harder now.

“You seem to forget what is at stake here.”

A pause.

“Let me make this simple.”

Andrea didn’t move.

“At the end of this trial period,” the voice said, “I want Iris on the first plane to Los Angeles permanently.”

A beat.

“Either she is with you there,” it continued, “or she is away from her parents. Permanently separated from them.”

Silence.

The words settled like something heavy.

Andrea swallowed slightly.

“I understand,” she said, quieter now.

“You will make it happen.”

Another pause.

Then, softer—but not less firm—

“I will try harder.”

The line stayed silent for a moment.

Then—

“Make sure you do.”

It ended.

Andrea lowered the phone slowly.

Her hand stayed there a moment longer than necessary.

Then she exhaled, sharp and controlled—

and finally turned away.