The doorbell rang.
Lucia stepped inside carrying a long black case. She smelled faintly of hairspray and winter air. When she saw me, she stopped so abruptly the case tilted in her hand.
Her eyes went straight to my head.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
I lifted my chin. “Don’t.”
The word came out softer than I intended, but it worked. Lucia shut her mouth, swallowed the pity, and set her case down with the calm of a woman who understands that dignity is sometimes a kind of medicine.
“Sit,” she said gently.
I sat at my vanity while she unpacked wigs with the care of someone handling fragile art. She tried a few, pulling them close, measuring, murmuring to herself. The movements were familiar, almost soothing, her fingers brisk and confident.
When she finally placed one on my head, I felt the soft weight settle against my scalp. Cool fibers brushing the raw skin. A line of relief moved through me like warmth.
Lucia adjusted the hairline, brushed it, parted it. She stepped back, eyes narrowed, and said, “Turn.”
I turned.
She fixed the sides, tapped the top, and nodded once. “This one.”
When she held up the mirror, I stared at myself again.
Silver hair, thick and elegant, falling in the same way mine always had. Not dramatic, not theatrical. Realistic. A version of myself I could live inside without feeling like an imposter.
My lips parted slightly. The sight made my throat sting, and for a second I had to blink hard.
Lucia watched me with something close to fury on my behalf. “Who did this?”
I met her eyes in the mirror. “Someone who thinks I’m disposable.”
Lucia’s jaw tightened. She reached into her kit and dabbed something soothing along my irritated scalp at the edges. The cool gel eased the burn a fraction.
Then she leaned close and whispered, “You’re not.”
I pressed my lips together and nodded. Words felt too risky.
When she was done, I slipped an envelope into her hand, heavier than her usual fee, because I needed her to understand what her discretion was worth.
Lucia glanced down, then back up at me. Her eyes softened.
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