Devin placed the final dish on the table, wiping his hands on a towel before taking his seat. The room was filled with the rich aroma of his cooking, but Iris's hunger wasn’t just for the food. She stole glances at Devin, her mind racing with thoughts that went far beyond the meal in front of her.
"Go ahead, dig in," Devin said, his voice deep and composed. The three of them began to eat, the silence only broken by the clinking of utensils.
After a few minutes, Devin cleared his throat, causing Mia and Iris to glance up at him. “So, Iris, where are you from?” he asked, his eyes lingering on her for a moment too long.
“I moved here from Illinois,” Iris replied smoothly, though the question seemed to spark a shift in her demeanor.
“That’s quite a distance. No family back there to visit?”
