She gasped when Iris elbowed him and stepped on his foot. He was wearing casual clothes. And besides the fake glasses and wig, he also looked like he stepped out of the seventies. He looked like a freakin’ rockstar from the 70s—John Lennon, to be exact.
“Shh. It’s me,” he whispered to Iris.
“Salvo?” she asked, surprised, in a low voice. “What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?”
“Does it suit me?” He managed to joke with her. She crossed her arms and rubbed her temple.
“I thought we understood each other last night?” she asked him, annoyed. Annoyed but slowly welling up with tears.
He cupped her face and kissed her forehead. “Shh. I’m here. I won’t leave you no matter what you say. I have a plan.”
Iris closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t want anything bad
