“It’s not dumb,” I murmur, reaching for her, but she shakes her head, holding up her phone.
“There’s more,” she says, reading aloud from a list. “Problems with time management. Frequently distracted. Emotional intensity. Procrastination. Overcompensating and perfectionism. Struggling with rejection and criticism…” She looks up with a smirk, but it lacks mirth. “Sound familiar?”
I stare at her, pulse thumping, because yes, this sounds very familiar, but it’s not Soph I’m thinking about. It’s Iris. That list describes her.
I try to shake the thought off and focus on my sister. Why am I thinking about Iris? Everyone gets distracted sometimes, or upset when they’re criticized. That’s normal. Besides, Iris isn’t always distracted. Sometimes she focuses so hard she forgets to eat.
Jada pads into the room in her pajamas, smiling when she sees me. “Hey, Aidan. I thought that was you.” She leans across to squeeze my shoulder, then sinks onto the sofa beside Sophie. “Did she tell you?”
I nod.
Jada gives Sophie an affectionate smile. “All this time she thought she needed to try harder, when it’s got nothing to do with how hard she tries. There’s a reason she struggles.”
I shift uncomfortably. Iris flashes into my mind again, and this time, it’s harder to push the image away.
“But it’s not all bad,” Jada continues, glancing at me. “ADHD comes with perks, too.”
I lift my brows. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for one, she’s super creative. We can all see that.”
I glance at Sophie’s canvases stacked against the wall, and nod. My sister has always been artistic and imaginative.
“And because she feels deeply, it means she has a lot of empathy for others.” Jada squeezes Sophie’s hand. “If I’m upset, she gets upset.”
“I hate seeing you upset,” Soph murmurs, leaning her head on Jada’s shoulder.
My chest tightens. I think of Iris in the car on the way to Wetherly Cove, the tears in her eyes as I told her about Mom leaving, as if she’d felt my pain herself.
Jada kisses Sophie’s forehead, turning back to me. “But when she gets excited about something, it’s contagious. One of the best ADHD perks is hyperfocus. Soph can hyperfocus like crazy. I swear, if I didn’t bring her food, she’d paint for twenty-four hours straight without eating.” Jada laughs. “I wish I had that kind of focus.”
Oh.
Shit.
My mind races as I process this. I’ve seen the parallels between Soph and Iris pretty much from the start, and the more they describe this, the harder it is to deny. Is it possible… Could Iris also have ADHD?
It’s not my place to diagnose. I’m not a doctor. But everything they’re saying sounds exactly like her, and I can’t help but think about the past couple of months with this new information, mentally scanning for clues. The times she’s struggled with my calendar, meetings, emails. The way she oftenforgets to order lunch, the motel she never booked. How she insisted on doing her assistant duties on top of the lighthouse projectandthe team-building task, as if trying to prove herself. How she’s always hit so hard by John’s words.
My heart softens with tenderness as I think of Iris struggling all this time and not knowing. The way she talked about college, saying,I just couldn’t keep up. Guess I’m not as smart as everyone else.And when I recall her other words from that night—Dad’s right. All I do is fuck everything up—protectiveness surges through me. I recall every disparaging word John’s said about his daughter, howshe doesn’t know the meaning of hard work, and my hands fist at my side. Iris works harder than anyone I’ve ever met, and John just refuses to see it. He’s the fucking problem.
And that’s when I know.
There’s no way I can partner with him. He’s nothing like the man I once thought he was. No, he’s petty and cruel. A bully. I thought I respected him as a boss, an architect, but I don’t. How can I, when I don’t even respect him as aman?
And now that I suspect Iris might have ADHD, I can’t let him continue to treat her the way he does. It’s not fair to her. As Jada said,All this time she thought she just needed to try harder, when it’s got nothing to do with how hard she tries. There’s a reason she struggles.
“So anyway,” Sophie mumbles, bringing me back to our conversation. “That’s… that’s where I’m at.”
“The good news,” Jada says, “is now that we know, we can get Soph some support.”
“Right.” I nod, leaning closer. “What does that look like?”
Sophie hikes up a shoulder. “I’m still figuring that out, but I’m considering medication and maybe some coaching.”
“The best thing, though,” Jada adds, stroking her wife’s cheek, “is for Soph to go way easier on herself. To stop blaming herself when things go wrong.”
Sophie swallows, softening into Jada’s side, and gratitude rolls through me.
