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It doesn’t h—I’ve barely even finished the sentence when the door swings open abruptly

“I said you can’t coly weakly

Heidi just rolls her eyes and leans against the vanity counter, phone in hand As always, her features are severe—a sharp, pointy nose, icy blue eyes, and a blunt, shoulder-length blond bob doing nothing to counter her personality’s critical nature “Don’t be absurd, Raquel We’re all professionals here Roberta will style your hair while you lie there on the floor Then you can still have your moment”

“My moment?” I question “Trust me, I did not choose this moment”

Heidi nods placatingly “Right, sweetie” With a snap of Heidi’s fingers, Roberta enters the rooh my hair

Suddenly, so occurs to eneral disregard for the hair stylist I didn’t ask to be here

“Wasn’t the door locked?”

“I picked it” Heidi shrugs nonchalantly She’s always nonchalant about her own actions, if I’m honest with myself, even when they’re worthy of a moderately cushy jail sentence Which is probably hen er, Kris Jenner-esque baton, she fought to make Heidi her replacement

“You…picked it?”

The criminal rolls her eyes

“What the hell? Where did you go to school?” I ask snidely “Burglars University?”

“Close,” she says without batting an eye “Southern California San Diego”

Roberta silently pulls at my hair, and with the way it makes my scalp ache, I decide not to even warn her about the puke loogie If they’d given me any time at all, I would have rinsed it out