Amelia
My hair is getting quite long now. Director Crane’s only birthday present to us every year was a haircut, but she opted against it for my eighteenth birthday in case my new owner would want it long. This is the first year it didn’t get cut, so it’s longer than it’s ever been.
Not as long as Molly’s was when we first met, thank goodness. But long for me.
My chosen sister is on my mind as I practice the boxer braids. I passed out so quickly after my bath that I slept all day on wet hair. I pull it now into two braids, each draping over my shoulder and down my front.
Braiding gives me something to do with my hands, it gives me some semblance of control over my life. It’s something to do with all this damn hair. And it’s a way to remember Molly.
My mind drifts though by the time I
