Chapter 4
“Jeanne…? Where are you, dear?”
There was the sound of a wooden door creaking open, then—
“What on earth—?!”
The shrill, panicked tone of Maman’s voice caused Jeanne to sit straight up. The moment she did, she wished she hadn’t so quickly; her neck hurt abominably from leaning backwards over the lip of the tub all night, and her limbs were sore from the cold tile floor.
But it had been for a reason, hadn’t it, her being down here?
“Jeanne, what did you do to your hair?!”
Oh! She stood up in excitement, rushing over to the little mirror to peer at herself. She smiled. Perfect—her hair had been cut in uneven layers, the longest reaching just past her shoulders, the shortest almost at her ears. The way her hair curled—it looked nice at this length.
“Jeanne, Jeanne, I don’t
