But Iris wasn't so easily satisfied. She continued to scrutinize Amber, her gaze sharp despite the frail demeanor. She refused to close her eyes, even as Calvin adjusted her blanket and spoke to her in soothing tones.
Amber shifted uncomfortably. Her presence was clearly unwanted.
"Alright, you can leave now," Calvin said over his shoulder, waving her off like an afterthought. "This has nothing to do with you."
The dismissal stung more than Amber wanted to admit. In that moment, she felt less like a person and more like an obedient dog—summoned at his convenience, discarded just as easily.
Her mind drifted back to their high school days. This wasn't her first encounter with Iris.
It had been during their first year, back when Amber's love for Calvin burned bright and naive. One afternoon, between classes, she had been leaning against the third-floor corridor railing, her gaze fixed on the basketball court below. She had watched Calvin countless times from this spot, hoping he'd glance her way or at least notice her.