My chest went cold.
“What do you mean
you can’t tell me?”
“It’s not only my story.”
That sentence scared me more than the haircut.
Ten minutes later, I was in my car.
I don’t even remember the drive to Nadine’s house.
I only remember knocking on her door so hard that my palm hurt.
When she opened it, I didn’t give her time to say hello.
“What happened to Tessa?”
Nadine’s face changed.
“You saw.”
“Of course I saw! She came home hiding under a hood like she’d done something terrible.”
“Marla—”
“Her hair is gone.”
“I know.”
“What did you do?”
Nadine stared at me.
For some reason, the fact that she didn’t defend herself immediately made me even angrier.
“What did you do to my daughter?”
“I didn’t cut her hair.”
“But you were with her.”
“Yes.”
“And she told me to ask you.”
