“Who did this?”
She still refused to answer.
“EMILY, DID SOMEBODY CUT YOUR HAIR WITHOUT PERMISSION?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
At last, she whispered,
“Ask Grandma.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“It’s not my story to tell.”
“What does that mean?”
“Please, Mom. Just ask Grandma.”
Within fifteen minutes, I was pounding on Linda’s front door.
She answered wearing a cardigan.
“What the hell happened to Emily?”
Linda didn’t even flinch.
That scared me more than if she had.
Her eyes filled with emotion, but there was no guilt in them.
Instead, she moved aside.
“You think I cut Emily’s hair.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Linda looked at me.
“When you understand why it happened, Rachel, I’m afraid you won’t be able to stay standing.”
My anger erupted.
“She came home crying! Her hair is gone! She won’t tell me anything except to ask you!”
