That day, as usual, Iris used the excuse of buying groceries to visit the post office in town.

Once again, there was no news.

She mentally counted the days—it had already been nearly seven.

Her biological parents lived in Nashville. Communication in the 1980s was slow, and it wasn’t uncommon for letters to take over ten days to arrive.

Feeling disappointed, Iris walked out of the post office, only to spot a familiar figure at the street corner.

It was Wendel, and beside him was Esther.

They had just stepped out of a clothing store, with Esther holding a floral dress in her hands.

The moment they looked up, their eyes met.

Since their last argument, Wendel had ignored her for three days.

He hesitated, debating whether to break the silence. But before he could say anything, Iris spoke first.

"What a coincidence. I was just out buying groceries. You two go ahead and enjoy your shopping—I’m heading home."

With that, she turned to leave.

"Iris!"

After holding back for so long, Wendel finally called out to her.

She stopped and looked at him, her expression calm.

"Be careful on the way back," he said—just a casual remark, nothing more.

Iris nodded, but her gaze unconsciously lingered on the floral dress in Esther’s hands.

Noticing her look, Esther quickly explained, even before Wendel could speak. "My birthday is coming up in a few days, so Wendel took me out to buy a gift."

Wendel immediately chimed in, "That’s right! And when your birthday comes around, I’ll get you a gift too."

As he said this, his eyes landed on Iris’ worn-out clothes, patched up in several places.

For some reason, a wave of guilt washed over him.

After Iris left, Wendel hesitated for a moment before turning back toward the clothing store.

Esther grabbed his arm, confused. "Brother, didn’t we already buy clothes? Why are you going back in?"

He explained, "Technically, you’re both my younger sisters. I should be fair—I can’t play favorites."

Esther’s face fell. Pouting, she snapped, "So, every year on my birthday, you have to buy her something too? I don’t like that!"

"Esther, be good," Wendel coaxed patiently. "That’s not what I meant. But no matter what, Iris sacrificed her education so you could go to school. We should at least show some gratitude."

Upon hearing that, Esther's temper flared.

She threw the new dress onto the ground, attracting the attention of nearby pedestrians. Without a care for the growing crowd, she shouted, "So what? Did I force her to drop out?!"

Several people turned to watch the commotion.

Wendel hated being the center of attention—especially in a negative way. Panicking, he hurriedly picked up the dress and quickly softened his tone, coaxing her like a guilty puppy.

"Alright, alright, I won’t buy her anything. Besides, she’s always doing chores at home—she wouldn’t have anywhere to wear such a nice dress anyway."

Only when she heard his reply did Esther’s anger subside. Satisfied, she smirked. "Now that’s more like it."

Then, as if suddenly recalling something, she frowned and muttered, "But I remember Iris went out to buy groceries this morning. Why hasn’t she returned home yet? The market isn’t even on this street."

Her simple words made Wendel pause. His brows furrowed as he realized something about it felt off.

Esther continued, "Look—the post office is right over there. You don’t think... Iris is—?"

Before she could finish, Wendel’s expression darkened.

Ever since learning that Iris had found her biological parents, he had felt a growing sense of unease.

He couldn’t quite explain why.

Was he afraid that she would leave this home behind and return to her rightful place as a wealthy family’s daughter?

Or... was he afraid that if she left, he might never see her again?

With a complicated mix of emotions, Wendel returned home.

As soon as he stepped inside, he saw Iris squatting by the stove in the kitchen, tending to the fire.

Her small figure looked especially frail.

The summer heat made cooking unbearable, and sweat had already soaked through the back of her thin shirt.

He had seen this scene countless times over the past twenty years, but for some reason, today, a faint sense of guilt welled up inside him.

During dinner, Iris had little appetite. After eating just a few bites, she retreated to her room.

After holding back for days, Wendel wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t find the right opportunity.

Meanwhile, Esther clung to him, insisting he accompany her for a walk by the small river at the west end of the village.

Feeling restless himself, he agreed.

The summer night breeze by the river was refreshingly cool. As they walked, their hands gradually found each other.

With no one else around and the dim moonlight casting a soft glow, Esther grew bolder. She leaned her entire body against Wendel.

The scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin—his face instantly turned red.

Instinctively, he tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip.

Her voice was gentle, almost pleading. "Wendel, do you really want to marry Iris? You know deep down..."

"Esther, stop talking." He cut her off, his tone firm.

"I’ve always known how you feel about me. If you weren’t considered my adopted sister, I would’ve been willing to marry you."

Esther’s eyes turned misty with grievance. "But Iris is also your adopted sister. Why did you choose her?"

Wendel let out a deep sigh. "I’m afraid of what people would say about you. You still have to continue your studies—if rumors spread that you have feelings for your own brother, it would ruin your reputation.

"But Iris, she has no future beyond this village. It doesn’t matter to her." As he spoke, their bodies pressed even closer.

Lost in that moment, neither of them noticed the figure standing just a few steps behind them.

It wasn’t until Wendel finally let go of Esther that he saw her—Iris.

She stood there, silent and motionless, like a ghost.

Wendel's heart nearly stopped. Panicked, he instantly moved away from Esther, putting as much distance between them as possible.

"Iris! It’s not what you think!" he blurted out, his voice flustered. "Esther said she was cold, so I was just—just trying to keep her warm! Don’t misunderstand!"

Only then did Esther realize Iris had been watching.

She froze for a moment, but quickly recovered, putting on an innocent and pitiful expression.

"Iris, please don’t take it the wrong way," she said weakly. "I’ve been sick lately... Sometimes my body just feels cold."

Iris looked at the two of them as if they were complete idiots.

It was August—the hottest time of the year. If they were going to lie, at least put some effort into it.

As for what they had just said, she had heard every single word.

So, Wendel understood. He understood how much a woman’s dignity meant—he just didn’t care about hers.

Thankfully, none of this mattered to her anymore.

But she had no interest in arguing, so she simply curled her lips into a faint smile and replied, "Esther, if you’re sick, you should see a doctor. Wendel isn’t a physician."

Esther choked, unable to say another word.

Iris continued, "Anyway, I came to find you because Mom sent me. She said it’s getting late and told you two to go home and sleep."

With that, she turned and walked away.

Esther was so furious that she stomped her foot, pointing after Iris’ retreating figure.

"Brother, look at her attitude! She’s always either giving me that sarcastic tone or ignoring me completely. How can anyone stand it?"

Wendel quickly comforted her. "Don’t worry. She’s just throwing a little tantrum. What else can she do? Run away?"

The two of them obediently returned home. By the time they arrived, Iris was already asleep, leaving Wendel with no chance to talk to her.

The next morning, Iris was startled awake by a sharp scream.

Still groggy, she walked into the living room, only to find Esther clutching the floral dress she had bought the day before, sobbing uncontrollably.

“My dress! There’s a huge hole in it! Someone clearly cut it with scissors! Who did this? Why would they do this to me?”

Wendel was also jolted awake by the commotion. He rushed over to inspect the dress and saw that it indeed had a long, jagged tear—an unmistakable sign that someone had deliberately cut it.

Their adoptive parents were awakened as well. Having lived frugally all their lives, they were immediately heartbroken at the sight of the ruined dress.

Immediately, Stella erupted in anger. “Which heartless wretch dared to cut up Esther’s dress? I swear, I’ll skin them alive!”

As soon as she finished speaking, everyone’s eyes turned to Iris.

She had expected this. She knew she would be the first suspect. But she didn’t panic. Having lived through the tragic fate of her past life, she was no longer afraid of their baseless accusations.

Lifting her chin, she met their gazes without fear. “Do you have any proof?”

“You damn girl! How dare you talk back to me?” Stella snapped.

Ronald, a man with a hair-trigger temper, immediately grabbed her ear and snarled, “If it wasn’t you, then was it me, this old man?”

Iris’ expression remained defiant. “You have no proof. You’re accusing me without reason!”

At that moment, Esther dramatically threw the dress onto the floor, wailing, “I know... I shouldn’t have worn such a nice dress. But Iris, if you wanted it, you could have just asked! Why did you have to ruin it out of spite?”

That single accusation nailed Iris to the pillar of shame.

Her hands clenched into fists, her voice hoarse as she repeated over and over, “It wasn’t me!”