Iris & Arthur
Iris
When Arthur and I pull up to my parents’ estate, the sun has nearly set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The security gate swings open as we approach, and Arthur parks the car. My feet are tired as we climb out, but it’s a good sort of tired after a fun, relaxing, and dare I say it—even a productive day, if you count the conversation with those people in the butterfly conservatory.
“I hope Miles wasn’t too much trouble,” I say as we walk up the path to the front door.
Arthur chuckles. “Your parents probably spoiled him rotten. We’ll have to deal with the consequences.”
When we walk into Miles’ room, however, it’s Nora we see, the nanny, not my parents. She’s sitting in a rocking chair by the window while Miles lays on his belly on the floo
