Iris crouched over her desk, focusing intensely as she crafted a doctor’s note with a steady hand. The forgery wasn’t perfect, but she’d spent enough ti studying online videos to master the basic techniques. A little smudging here, a signature there...
"That should do it," she muttered, holding up her work.
The note requested Iris Angelo be excused from afternoon classes due to a sudden migraine, signed by a "Dr. Williams" whose practice didn’t exist outside Iris’s imagination. Her PE teacher wouldn’t look too closely—Coach Martinez had twenty-seven students to manage and barely rembered their nas, let alone what their doctors’ signatures looked like.
Iris folded the note and tucked it into her jacket pocket. She had her whole plan mapped out: deliver the note after lunch, slip out the back entrance where the caras had been broken since last sester, and take the 1:15 train to Manhattan.
She checked her appearance in the small mirror propped against her textbooks. Her dark hair was tucked under a navy blue cap, and she’d brought sunglasses and a hoodie for her "undercover" look. Maybe it was overkill, but Iris had watched enough spy movies to know proper disguise was essential.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Isaiah.
[Rember to buy milk on your way ho from school. I left $20 on the counter.]
Iris felt a twinge of guilt that dissolved almost instantly. Isaiah had started giving her a $200 monthly ergency allowance now that she was fourteen, and if tracking down his mystery kisser wasn’t an ergency, what was? Besides, she had $43 of her own money saved, more than enough for a round-trip train ticket.
[Will do! Have fun at work! ❤️]
She added the heart emoji to mask her deception. Isaiah trusted her completely, which made lying to him both easier and much, much worse.
"Sorry, Zay," she whispered. "But soone’s gotta look out for you."
The note worked perfectly. Coach Martinez barely glanced at it before waving her away with a distracted "Feel better, kid." Iris kept her head down as she navigated the hallways, slipping out the back entrance near the gym. The sudden freedom of a Wednesday afternoon stretched before her like an unexpected gift.
The train station was a fifteen-minute walk from Kensington Middle School. Iris had studied the route to Manhattan obsessively last night, morizing the transfers and timing. One hour and twenty-three minutes, if everything ran on schedule.
She bought her ticket with crisp bills from her ergency fund, heart pounding. The LED screen above the platform announced the 1:15 train would arrive in seven minutes.
"First ti traveling alone?"
Iris turned to find an elderly woman with silver hair and kind eyes sitting on the bench beside her.
"Is it that obvious?" Iris asked, adjusting her sunglasses.
The woman chuckled. "You keep checking the schedule board every thirty seconds. Don’t worry, the train cos whether you stare at it or not."
"I’m not worried," Iris lied. "I’m just... ti-conscious."
"Heading to the city for sothing special?"
Iris considered her answer. "I’m going to check out a school. For my brother."
That was sort of true. She was checking out people at his school.
"That’s nice of you. You must care about him a lot."
"He’s all I’ve got," Iris said simply. Then, worried that sounded too sad: "He’s basically the best person ever, but he doesn’t know it. So I have to make sure other people treat him right."
The woman’s eyes crinkled at the corners. "Lucky brother."
The train arrived with a rush of noise and air, and Iris boarded, finding a window seat. The elderly woman sat a few rows ahead, giving her a small wave that Iris returned.
As the train pulled away from the station, Iris felt a flutter of nervousness and excitent. She’d never done anything like this before. Isaiah had always been the one taking care of logistics, planning their lives down to the minute.
Now it was her turn to take care of him.
The journey unfolded exactly as planned. Iris transferred at 30th Street Station to the Amtrak to New York, watching the urban landscape blur past her window. The woman from the platform ended up in the sa car, offering Iris half of her sandwich when she noticed the girl hadn’t brought any food.
"I’m Elaine," she said. "I visit my daughter in Manhattan every Wednesday."
"I’m Iris," she replied, accepting the sandwich gratefully. "Thank you."
"You remind of my granddaughter. Always on a mission."
Iris couldn’t help smiling at that. "Yeah, I guess I am."
When they arrived at Penn Station, Elaine helped her navigate the chaotic crowds, pointing her toward the correct subway entrance.
"Good luck with your school hunt," Elaine called as they parted ways. "Your brother is lucky to have you!"
The subway was packed with afternoon commuters, but Iris managed to find a pole to hold onto, checking her phone map at every stop. The Upper West Side was only a few stations away.
By the ti she erged onto the streets of Manhattan, it was 2:47 PM. School would let out at 3:15. She had plenty of ti to find a good observation post.
Hartwell Academy looked exactly like it did in the photos online: imposing stone buildings behind wrought-iron gates, a golden griffin emblem mounted above the entrance. Iris positioned herself across the street, partially hidden by a pretzel cart, and pulled her hoodie up over her cap. The sunglasses completed her "totally not suspicious" ensemble.
"Hey kid, you buying or loitering?" the pretzel vendor asked, eyeing her doubtfully.
"Um, buying. One pretzel, please."
She handed over three dollars and accepted the warm, salty snack, realizing she was actually hungry after her adventure. The vendor seed appeased by her purchase, turning his attention to other custors.
Iris checked her watch. 3:08 PM. Seven minutes until the Valentine sisters would erge—assuming they all left right after the final bell. She hadn’t considered they might have clubs or other activities.
"Please just co out," she muttered, taking a bite of pretzel.
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