And somewhere, in the space between heartbeats, Iris smiles.
Iris did not remember the sun.
“Don’t,” Iris said quietly.
The demon shrieked and dissolved.
When it was over, Iris stood in a field of wildflowers under a real sun.
They say Iris became a myth. A blind girl who walked through hell and closed its doors.
She could not see it. But she knew: it was warm. And it was the color of no lie at all.
