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Kerina.
‘Sit still,’ says Vera, poking and prodding my head. ‘I’m almost finished.’
‘Where did you learn to do hair anyway?’ I ask.
‘I didn’t always have a shaved head,’ says Vera. ‘Finished! Now stand up and let me see.’
I stand up and my gown bunches out. Vera has created long curls that cascade around my neck. You can hardly tell where the hair is pinned back. It looks like the hair naturally falls that way.
Knock, knock.
‘Come in,’ I say.
Saxon enters the room. His jaw falls slack before he composes himself. I smooth the lemon-coloured gown. Delicate bows have been handsewn with diamanté in the middle of each, making it sparkle as I move.
‘She should pass with flying colours, don’t you think, Saxon?’ says Vera, smirking.
He swallows. ‘You look … beautiful.’
My cheeks warm
