Vision in Silver(15)

            <Simon?> Henry called.

            <I want Merri Lee here now,> Simon said. <Once I find out what’s going on with Meg, the Business Association will meet.>

            <Elliot too,> Henry said. <He has things to tell us about his talk with the mayor.>

            <I’m going to deal with Meg first.>

            <Is she all right?>

            <She’s not hurt, but . . . I don’t know. I think this is a girl thing.> Wasn’t that what Meg had told Vlad? That she was going to do a girl thing as a symbol for a new beginning?

            Simon studied Meg as she leaned against the sorting table, looking exhausted. He hoped he hadn’t bruised her arms when he dragged her into the bathroom, but if he had, he wouldn’t be surprised when Henry swatted him—hopefully with a human hand and not a clawed Grizzly paw.

            Merri Lee rushed into the sorting room. “Meg . . . ?” She jerked to a stop. “Mr. Wolfgard?”

            “Take off the hat, Meg,” Simon said. Merri Lee would look at Meg’s new coat, make a casual remark, and then . . .

            “Wow! That’s radical.”

            Meg’s breathing hitched. Simon turned on Merri Lee and snarled, “You are not being helpful!”

            “Well, I’m sorry, but it is radical,” Merri Lee stammered. “I can understand why Meg needs time to adjust to how she looks with hair that short.”

            “Not helpful,” he warned, showing his teeth.

            But Merri Lee wasn’t paying attention to him. She was studying Meg. “You weren’t prepared for how it would look, were you?”

            Meg shook her head.

            “Your hair was short when you first arrived at the Courtyard. Not this short, but short, so it must have been trimmed on a regular basis.” Merri Lee continued to study Meg. “But not at a salon?”

            “I don’t remember my hair being cut,” Meg said. “But sometimes I had odd dreams of things being done. The Walking Names took each of us to a room for a maintenance sleep. When I’d wake up, nothing seemed different.”

            Simon watched the two girls and shifted his weight. Merri Lee looked like she wanted to bite someone, so he wasn’t sure if he needed to leap forward to protect Meg or leap away to protect himself.

            “Did you watch the stylist cut your hair this time?”

            “No. I could feel her using the comb and scissors, but I couldn’t see her.”

            “Ah.” Merri Lee nodded. “The stylist had the chair turned away so that when she was done she could spin the chair to face the mirror and surprise you with the new you?”

            Meg nodded. “I think she knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t stay, couldn’t talk. . . . It wasn’t me anymore.”

            Merri Lee sighed. “When I was eleven, my mother decided she didn’t like my long hair and took me to her stylist to get it cut. I loved having long hair, and I didn’t want my hair cut, but I wasn’t given a choice. They had already decided between them that it was going to be short because that’s what my mother wanted. So the stylist kept the chair turned away from the mirror while she cut my hair. Then she spun the chair around and told me it was such a cute haircut, and my mother smiled. . . .” She paused, then shook her head. “The point is, I didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror. I saw a stranger and felt . . . disconnected.”

            “Yes,” Meg whispered.

            Simon stared at them. “Yes? Yes? You look the same, you smell the same. How can you not know you’re you? Meg, you turned your hair orange and you didn’t get upset. Not like this!” He growled as a thought occurred to him. “Did you get upset like this but kept it hidden from us?”