Chapter 1 - The Cut
I was standing in the middle of the Grand Hotel ballroom, listening to the guests murmur beneath the crystal chandeliers, when I felt the cold edge of the scissors press against the nape of my neck.
I had not heard Eleanor come up behind me.
One clean snip ran through my honey-blonde braid, and the weight of it left my shoulder so suddenly that I stumbled forward in my white satin dress.
I spun around, my blue eyes wide, and my hand flew to the place where years of hair had just been cut away.
Eleanor stood there in her burgundy gown and her pearl necklace, holding the severed braid up like a prize.
She was smiling with that calm, satisfied look she always wore when she believed she knew what was best for everyone.
"It's a family tradition," she said.
The guests laughed softly, as if this were a charming little ceremony they had all been waiting to see.
I looked down at the ragged end of my braid still caught in my fingers, and my lips began to tremble.
For a moment I could only stand there, holding what was left of my hair, unable to speak.
Then Daniel stepped to my side in his black tuxedo and lifted the microphone.
His face was serious, his jaw set, and he did not look at his mother.
He looked out at the two hundred guests beneath the champagne light.
"There's someone very special I invited tonight," Daniel said.
He turned his head slightly toward the ballroom doors.
I followed his gaze, my hand still pressed against the cut in my hair.
Eleanor's smile did not fade all at once.
It tightened first, then drained away, while she stood there still holding my braid and the scissors.
The chandeliers glittered above us, and the orchestra played on, but the ballroom had gone strangely quiet.
I did not know yet who was coming through those doors.
I only knew that the woman who had just cut my hair was afraid.
