Chapter 11
Livia asked for her hair back.
I knew the question would come eventually.
It still hurt.
Rosalie had gathered the cut section before cleaning the room.
I kept it in a small box because throwing it away felt wrong without asking.
Livia touched it carefully.
“Can we put it back?”
“No.”
Her face crumpled.
I sat beside her.
“Hair grows.”
“How long?”
“A while.”
“That’s bad.”
“Yeah.”
I did not tell her it was nothing.
Children know when adults minimize.
“It’s okay to be sad.”
She started crying.
I let her.
Then she asked:
“Did Bianca make me ugly?”
My chest tightened.
“No.”
“She said ugly hair makes Daddy embarrassed.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
Then looked at her.
“You could shave every hair off your head and I’d still take you everywhere.”
She stared.
“All?”
“All.”
“What if eyebrows too?”
I almost laughed.
“Let’s keep the eyebrows.”
She smiled.
Small.
Progress.
Then she said:
“I don’t want wedding anymore.”
“Good.”
She looked surprised.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“What about cake?”
“We can still have cake.”
That seemed to resolve the practical issue.
Later, I found Rosalie crying in the hallway.
“What?”
“I should have stopped Bianca sooner.”
“Yes.”
She looked down.
I continued.
“But you stepped in today.”
“I was scared.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“I thought if I lost my job, Livia would be alone with her.”
That changed something.
Rosalie had not stayed silent only from cowardice.
She had been trying to remain near Livia.
Flawed.
Dangerous.
But understandable.
I nodded.
“Next time, you come to me.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
May you like
I looked toward my daughter.
“Good answer.”
