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It was over ninety degrees outside.
“Emily, why are you wearing that?”
“I’m cold.”
She kept climbing.
Something felt wrong.
Then sunlight hit the shoulder of her hoodie.
Small brown hairs clung to the black fabric.
My chest tightened.
“Emily?”
She disappeared upstairs.
I followed.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed with her hood still pulled over her head and her knees pressed against her chest.
“Sweetheart, let me see.”
“Mom, please.”
I sat beside her.
Slowly, I reached for the hood.
Emily flinched.
Then she allowed me to 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 looked away.
“Who did this?”