Chapter 3 - SOPHIE WELLS
Eric did not know Sophie Wells.
Neither did Megan.
Janice claimed she did.
“A client’s daughter,” she said immediately.
They were still standing on the porch.
Megan was recording.
Alison had her face pressed against Megan’s stomach.
Eric held the clear salon bag away from Janice.
“Why is Alison’s hair inside a bag with another child’s name?”
Janice’s breathing became shallow.
“It’s not what you think.”
“That sentence means absolutely nothing.”
Janice looked toward Megan.
“This is none of her business.”
Megan almost laughed.
“My daughter’s hair is in your hand.”
Janice corrected sharply:
“It’s hair.”
Eric’s head snapped toward her.
“No. It came off my child.”
That was the first time Megan heard real fear in his voice.
Janice softened immediately.
“Eric, listen to me. Bell & Bloom runs donation collections. We send hair to organizations that make wigs for children. The tags get reused sometimes.”
Megan looked at the bag.
“Then why did you say you needed it?”
Janice stared at her.
“I was being sarcastic.”
“You told Alison she had to give you her curls so her father would come home.”
“I did not.”
Alison made a small sound behind Megan.
Megan looked down.
“You don’t have to say anything else.”
Janice’s voice sharpened.
“She’s five. She misunderstands everything.”
Eric went still.
Megan did too.
There are sentences parents remember forever.
Not because they are loud.
Because they reveal what an adult believes a child’s truth is worth.
Eric took out his own phone.
“Who is Sophie Wells?”
Janice folded her arms again.
“I told you.”
“Last name of the parent.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You own the salon.”
“I have hundreds of clients.”
“Then we’ll check.”
Janice moved toward him.
“Eric, don’t turn this into some custody spectacle because Megan’s enjoying herself.”
Megan felt anger flash through her so quickly she nearly stepped forward.
Instead she crouched.
“Alison, sweetheart, we’re going to my house now.”
Eric looked at her.
“Megan—”
“I’m taking her.”
“It’s my custody night.”
She stared at him.
For the first time, he did not argue.
He handed her Alison’s backpack.
Then the salon bag.
Janice reached for it.
Eric blocked her.
“No.”
“Eric!”
“No.”
His voice cracked through the porch.
“You don’t touch anything else.”
Megan buckled Alison into the back seat while Eric stood in the driveway calling someone at Bell & Bloom.
Janice remained in the doorway.
Watching.
Before Megan closed the car door, Alison whispered:
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“There’s more hair.”
Megan froze.
“What do you mean?”
“At the salon.”
May you like
Her daughter stared down at her hands.
“Janice has lots of girl hair.”
