She tipped her head back, casting her hair out of her eyes to assess him and his caution. He just checked the sight lines. Interesting. "I didn't hurt my arm falling down the stairs," Iris said, in a voice that crackled like fall leaves with restrained tension. She put the key in the lock and opened the door, stepping back to allow him inside because 1) she didn't want to give him her back and 2) because she wanted to see what his impression would be of the apartment, which was as white and barren as the first time she had moved in; perhaps more so.
"Are you going to tell me how ridiculous the forums are, or are you going to tell me how there must be some rational explanation?" She was still operating on the assumption that he was some kind of law enforcement. It was not a worse-case scenario; worse case was that he worked for one of her (many, powerful) enemies, and he was here for something more permanent than information. She thought not, however. He knew a lot he would not have known unless he had actually spoken to Evan, and she trusted Evan enough that he would not have given such details to someone untrustworthy.