Chapter 1: The Woman Holding the Scissors
“Please stop! Please! That’s my hair!””
My mother’s trembling voice cut through the bright bridal dressing room just as I walked through the door.
For one terrible second, I couldn't understand what I was seeing.
My seventy-two-year-old mother, Eleanor Hayes, was sitting in a velvet chair near the vanity, her hands gripping the armrests. Her silver hair, which she had spent nearly an hour carefully arranging that morning, was falling in uneven strands onto her pale lilac dress.
Standing behind her was my bridesmaid, Vanessa Cole.
Vanessa was holding a pair of silver scissors.
And she was cutting my mother’s hair.
“Vanessa!””
My bouquet slipped from my fingers.
She turned, scissors still open, looking almost annoyed that I had interrupted her.
“Oh, good. You're here,” she said casually.
“Your mother wouldn't cooperate.””
I crossed the room so quickly that the train of my wedding dress caught on the corner of a chair.
“What the hell are you doing?””
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“Relax, Olivia. I'm fixing something.””
I grabbed the scissors from her hand.
She resisted for half a second, then released them with an exaggerated sigh.
“Don't be dramatic.””
I stared at my mother's head.
One side of her beautiful silver hair had been hacked short. Several uneven pieces hung around her ear. The other side was still pinned in the elegant style she'd chosen for my wedding.
My mother looked at me with wet eyes.
“Olivia,” she whispered.
“I told her to stop.””
I dropped the scissors onto the vanity and knelt beside her.
“Mom, look at me. Are you hurt?””
She shook her head, but her lower lip trembled.
“She kept saying I was embarrassing you.””
I turned toward Vanessa.
“Did you touch my mother without her permission?””
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Her hair was filthy. I was just cleaning it up.””
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
“Filthy?””
“She came here looking like she hadn't been to a salon in months. We're about to have professional wedding photographs taken. I was trying to help.””
“My mother spent three hours at the salon yesterday.””
Vanessa laughed.
“Well, it obviously didn't work.””
My mother lowered her eyes.
That was when I noticed something else.
A small pile of silver hair lay on the floor beside the chair.
My mother had been growing it for almost two years.
After my father died, she'd told me she wanted to let it grow naturally. She said it reminded her of the way he used to stroke her hair when they watched television together.
And Vanessa knew that.
She had heard the story herself.
I stood.
“Get away from her.””
Vanessa raised her eyebrows.
“Excuse me?””
“You heard me.””
She pointed at my mother's hair.
“Olivia, I'm your maid of honor. I'm trying to make sure everything looks perfect. You're welcome.””
Before I could answer, my mother caught my wrist.
“Please don't let her hurt me again.””
Those words nearly broke me.
I squeezed her hand.
“She won't touch you again. I promise.””
Then a familiar voice came from the doorway.
“What's all this noise?””
Marcus Reed, my fiancé, stepped into the dressing room wearing his perfectly tailored black tuxedo.
He looked at the scissors.
Then at Vanessa.
Then at me.
“What happened?””
“Your bridesmaid attacked my mother with scissors,” I said.
Marcus barely glanced at Eleanor.
“Vanessa, what's going on?””
Vanessa immediately changed her expression.
Her shoulders dropped. Her eyes became glossy.
“I was only trying to help Eleanor. She had loose hair everywhere, and I thought I'd tidy it up before the ceremony.””
“She was cutting it without permission!””
Marcus sighed.
“Olivia, calm down.””
I stared at him.
“Did you just tell me to calm down?””
“It's just hair. Stop overreacting.””
The room went silent.
My mother looked at Marcus as though she couldn't believe what she'd heard.
I slowly turned toward him.
“That's your response?””
Marcus adjusted his cufflinks.
“We have two hundred guests waiting downstairs. The photographer is here. The ceremony starts in forty minutes. Can we please avoid turning this into a scene?””
“My mother is crying.””
“She isn't injured.””
“Her hair is ruined!””
“It's hair, Olivia. It grows back.””
Vanessa gave a small, satisfied smile.
I saw it.
And something inside me changed.
I looked at the long blonde hair extension hanging over the back of Vanessa's shoulder. She had spent weeks bragging about how expensive it was, how perfectly it matched her natural hair, and how she would never let anyone touch it.
I walked toward her.
“What's that?””
She instinctively stepped backward.
“Don't.””
I picked up the scissors.
“It's just hair, right?””
“Olivia, put those down.””
I grabbed the blonde extension and cut straight through it.
Snip.
The long piece dropped onto the polished floor.
Vanessa screamed.
“What have you done?””
I let the scissors fall onto the vanity.
“Just a little hair. Right?””
Vanessa stumbled backward and collapsed into a chair.
“No! Please! I'm sorry!””
I looked at her.
“You were sorry when?””
She covered the remaining length of her hair with both hands.
Marcus stepped between us.
“You're insane!””
I looked at the man I was supposed to marry in less than an hour.
His expression wasn't concerned.
It wasn't confused.
He was furious because I'd embarrassed Vanessa.
I glanced at my mother, who was still holding her ruined hairstyle with one trembling hand.
Then I looked at Marcus.
“I don't need this wedding anymore.””
His face changed.
“Olivia, don't be ridiculous.””
“I said what I said.””
“You can't cancel a wedding because of a stupid argument.””
“A stupid argument?””
I pointed toward my mother.
“Look at her.””
Marcus looked away.
Then, suddenly, a phone rang.
It was mine, sitting on the vanity beneath a scattering of makeup brushes.
I picked it up.
One new message.
Unknown number.
The preview contained six words.
*LOOK WHAT MARCUS HAS BEEN DOING.*
I frowned and opened it.
There was a photograph.
Marcus.
In a bed.
Without his tuxedo.
And beside him, wearing nothing but a familiar diamond necklace, was Vanessa.
My fingers went numb.
I enlarged the photograph.
The background was unmistakable.
It was the bedroom in the apartment Marcus claimed he had rented for his best man during the bachelor weekend.
But the date displayed beneath the photograph was even worse.
Three nights ago.
I slowly raised my eyes.
Vanessa was staring at my phone.
Marcus had gone completely still.
Neither of them spoke.
I turned the screen toward them.
“Would either of you like to explain this?””
Vanessa's face drained of color.
Marcus took one step toward me.
“Olivia, listen—”
I held up my hand.
“Don't.””
My mother looked between us.
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“Sweetheart, there's something else you need to know.””
I turned toward her.
“What is it, Mom?””
May you like
She looked directly at Marcus.
And Marcus looked terrified.
