Page 59 of Shattered Vows

Since the initial few days passed, he has been insatiable. Well, I can tell he’s still holding back. As much as I insist I’m not made of glass, he won’t listen. I figure it will take him time to come around.

Anabelle parks her expensive car on the side of the road outside an older building with a sign over it that says Scuttlebutt Salon.

“I take it that a lot of gossiping goes on here?”

She laughs. “Yes, but don’t worry, no one here is dumb enough to ask about anything that happens up at Midnight Manor. No one talks about the Voss brothers.”

I frown. “Are they scared of them?”

“You could say that.” She climbs out of the car, so I follow suit.

The bell above the door dings when we enter, and everyone turns to face us. Anabelle doesn’t appear fazed, strolling up to her hairdresser. I hope to have confidence like her around people one day.

“Dorothy, this is my friend, Rapsody, that I told you about.” Anabelle motions to me at her side.

A plump woman in her late fifties smiles at me. “Well, look at you.” She laughs and touches my forearm. “You need a trim.”

My cheeks heat. “More than a trim really.”

“Don’t you worry, I’m gonna fix you right up. Now come on over, and have a seat, tell me what you’re thinking.” She walks over to a worn blue leather hairdresser’s chair and pats the back.

I walk over and sit, looking at Anabelle over my shoulder in the mirror. She’s giving me an encouraging smile.

“I want a change. A drastic one. I want you to cut it to my shoulders.”

“Now we’re talking!” Dorothy says. “All these other women are worrying about a half inch here, a half inch there. You just made my day.” She inspects my hair and meets my gaze in the mirror. “Do you want to donate what we cut off?”

“Donate it?” I look at her, confused.

“Yeah. I’ll put it in a ponytail and cut right above where the hair is secure. They use it to make wigs for cancer patients who have lost their hair.”

Oh, that makes me happy. “Definitely then.”

Dorothy sets about collecting what she needs, and Anabelle sits in the empty chair to my left.

“Are you nervous?” Anabelle asks me.

I nod. “Yes, but more excited than nervous. It’s time for a change.”

“Okay, let me just get this in a ponytail.” Dorothy gathers my hair in a loose ponytail down my back and picks up her scissors, placing the open blades around my hair. “Ready?”

I suck in a cleansing breath and nod. “Ready.”

She presses on the shears, and I feel her cutting through the pile of strands until a giant weight lifts off my head—literally.

Dorothy holds up the long ponytail to my side. “The hardest part is done, sweetie. You still good?”

My eyes glisten as I admire the long, cumbersome locks in her hands. Not because I’m sad I cut it off, but because it’s a physical representation of the transformation I’ve been going through since arriving at Midnight Manor, and it feels right. “I’m good. I’m happy.”

Dorothy gives me a knowing smile. “All right, we’re cooking with gas now. Let’s finish the job.”

An hour later, I leave the salon feeling like a new woman. Not only did I get my hair cut, but a woman who is a makeup artist declared today a makeover day for me and squeezed me in. She didn’t go crazy with the makeup, but it’s enough to make a difference. Everyone was so nice.

I’ve never worn makeup before. I used to beg my mom when I was a teen, asking if I could buy some to play around with, and she always said no. Told me it sexualizes a woman, and there was no need for it.

“I can’t tell you how much I love it,” Anabelle says for probably the fifth time.

“Me too. I didn’t think I’d like it this much. I mean, I knew I needed a change, but I didn’t know I’d love it this much.” I giggle like a schoolgirl. “And my head feels so light.”

---