She had on an enormous black hoodie.
The hood was pulled so tightly around her face that I could barely make out her features.
It was over ninety degrees outside.
“Emily, why are you wearing that?”
“I’m cold.”
She continued up the stairs.
Something didn’t feel right.
Then sunlight caught the shoulder of her hoodie.
Tiny brown hairs were stuck to the black fabric.
My chest tightened.
“Emily?”
She vanished upstairs.
I followed her.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her hood still pulled over her head, her knees drawn against her chest.
“Sweetheart, let me see.”
“Mom, please.”
I sat down beside her.
Slowly, I reached toward the hood.
Emily flinched.
Then she let me pull it down.
For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe. Her beautiful waist-length hair was gone.
In its place was a short, uneven pixie cut.
“What happened?”
Emily turned her face away.
