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She was expecting it to be bad But this?

Who was she?

No one Without her hair, she looked anonymous She could be anyone, really She could even be a man

Grabbing the towel, she pulled it over her head This was the final indignity “Bad thing nu herself onto her bed

She rolled into the dip of the old feather irls had no doubt done before her, she cried and cried and cried

Sometime later, she sat up and dried her tears

She’d had her eht that feelings, no , don’t just sit there feeling sorry for yourself “Take action,” her father would have said

Besides, it was relatively simple: She was bald She needed hair

It was possible that in the ju Possibly several But they would be like Old Jay’s bed: You wouldn’t want to sleep in them

She would have to wear a hat instead The best selection of hats could be found in one of Hellenor’s old rooms; specifically, in the room Hellenor had once dubbed “the lab”

Panting slightly—a reminder that she was in terrible shape—Pandysecond-floor corridor, then up another flight of stairs to the children’s wing, where she opened the door to the schoolroom

At one ti over, chances were it was co to find Hellenor, dressed in a white lab coat and wearing safety glasses, holding a s test tube

“Yes?” she would ask curtly

“Mom’s worried you’re about to burn down the house”