Soon, the house quieted down, and exhaustion took over. She decided to get into bed and sleep.
But then, a knock came at the door.
"Iris, I know you’re still awake. Can we talk?"
It was Wendel’s voice.
Iris walked to the door and replied flatly, "Brother, you should go rest."
Hearing her call him "brother" again, Wendel felt inexplicable discomfort.
Ever since they had agreed to get married, she had never called him that.
For some reason, an unfamiliar sense of loss crept into his heart.
Refusing to give up, he continued patiently, "You were too stubborn today. Think about it—why are you even arguing with Esther? Once we’re married, she’ll be calling you ‘sister-in-law’ anyway. We’re all family."
Iris found his words ridiculous.
She couldn’t understand how Wendel could love Esther while still speaking to her like this.
Calming herself, she answered, "Brother, I think we need to reconsider this marriage."
Wendel immediately panicked. "Iris, why would you say that? What’s wrong with us getting married?"
"Are you just trying to spite me?"
"Iris, we’re not children anymore. Don’t joke about things like this. I know you just want me to coax you—is that it? Fine, I’ll coax you, okay?"
Iris let out a long sigh.
Talking to this man was exhausting.
All she wanted now was to close her eyes and rest. "Brother, just leave. I’m really tired."
Wendel was silent for a moment before his voice turned cold. "Iris, I’ve already lowered myself to apologize. Don’t say I’m heartless."
With that, he left.
Iris knew he was angry.
He had always been like this—if his coaxing didn’t work within three minutes, he would give up completely.
The next day, Wendel started giving her cold shoulder.
Iris didn’t speak to him either, simply going about her chores as usual.
No one knew that she had already contacted her biological parents.
Until they came to take her away, she would keep a low profile.
Every day, she would find an excuse to go to town for groceries, making sure to stop by the post office, afraid of missing a letter from her real family.
That day, as usual, Iris used the excuse of buying groceries to visit the post office in town.
Once again, there was no news.
She mentally counted the days—it had already been nearly seven.
Her biological parents lived in Nashville. Communication in the 1980s was slow, and it wasn’t uncommon for letters to take over ten days to arrive.