After Cris and Sam had left the apartment, Iris had gotten TJ settled down and ready for bed. Instead of going upstairs to sleep on the floating furniture (which they both agreed was 'too weird'), they made up a little blanket nest on the L-shaped couch. The space was small, and there wasn't much to do, so when TJ was ready to sleep, Iris laid down as well, their heads close together in the corner of the cushions.
Sleep didn't come easily, though, and she laid awake through the night, thinking.
It was obvious that her presence wasn't wanted, that people were helping only because of TJ. And she appreciated it. She did. But even though she'd grown a thicker skin during her time away, it was hard to see people looking at her with indifference, apprehension, poorly disguised dislike. She'd learned how to see it, and she understood it, but it chipped away at her at a time when she had to be as strong as possible. Staring into the dark, she ran conversations over and over in her head, the way her old anxieties used to tornado their way through her mind. If she let them, they could unravel everything in their path and leave her like she once was. And unable to care for her son.
A few hours before dawn, she came back around to the thought of the hotel. The doors. The suggestions to pick one (a random one, with nothing to connect them to anyone), change their names, disappear into it and just not reply to anything on the journal. Tuck it away and pretend like their lives were normal.
There were worse suggestions.
Rising with the lightening of the day, they made a game of packing all the things Iris had just unpacked the night before, all the supplies that Cris had brought over. Things were tucked into already-full bags, and everything else was straightened to appear as close as possible to how they'd found it. Taking the chance to leave the door unlocked, they even ran the trash to the garbage chute, and then they were ready. It hadn't taken long - a single night didn't leave too much of a change on a place, even with a six year-old as one of its temporary residents. She hadn't been the one to talk to Louis about staying there, and it sounded like he wouldn't be back any time soon. Even so, she felt like she had to leave something to show her appreciation. The apartment had given them a safe place, even if only for a night.
One of the pieces of jewelry she'd brought with her was already missing several of its stones, and it wasn't a huge difficulty or hardship to pry out another one - an emerald about the size of the nail on her pinky finger. She set it on the kitchen counter next to a note that simply read "Thank you for your hospitatilty". She left it unsigned. Another note, this one in the journals, and she was done.
After that, there wasn't anything keeping them there. So, like she had the night before, she loaded them down with their bags and took her son's hand. A last glance, and they stepped out of the apartment door and back into the hotel to find someplace new for them to live.