“I can’t see you,” Chan said. He didn’t know why those words had come out and not what he wanted to say, but at least it was something.
The girl paused, then flicked her techband light on. Her face was illuminated by a soft blue glow. Freckles dotted her skin, and Chan could see that her hair was a furious, curly red. “That better?” she asked.
Chan nodded.
“You’re not one for words, are you?” She sighed. “I can see you’re looking at my hair. Wondering why it’s not blonde?”
He watched her expectantly, glad he hadn’t been forced to ask.
“Well, see, my hair’s too frizzy to dye. It was just never meant to be blonde. I tried last year—even paid fifty credits for the best stylist I could find. He worked on it for three hours. Finally he said, ‘Let me show you some wigs I have in back.’ I wa
