Leo did not bound out of the car the way he usually did. He stepped onto the driveway with the slow, trembling hesitation of a wounded animal.
His face was streaked with dirt and tears, his eyes swollen and red. His small shoulders shook with silent, hyperventilating sobs. But it was his head that made my knees buckle.
His beautiful, golden curls—the ones that cascaded down to his shoulders, the ones he brushed so carefully every morning—were entirely gone. In their place was a brutal, uneven buzz cut. It wasn’t just short; it was a butchery.
But worst of all were the angry, bright red scratches crisscrossing his sensitive scalp, where the heavy clippers had been shoved too hard, too fast, against his skin.
He was clutching something tightly in his small, trembling right fist.
“Mommy,” Leo choked out, his voice a broken whisper.
I fell to my knees on the concrete, wrapping my arms around him, pulling his small, trembling body into my chest. He buried his face in my neck and wailed—a sound of such profound heartbreak and violation that it brought tears streaming down my own face.
Brenda stepped out of the driver’s seat. She smoothed her designer blouse, looking down at us with a smug, self-satisfied smile that bordered on the psychotic.
“There,” Brenda announced, her voice dripping with toxic pride. “Now he looks like a real boy. You can thank me later, Amy. Someone had to be the adult and fix this.”
I slowly stood up, keeping Leo safely behind my legs. My vision tinted red. “You told the school Lily was dying.”Brenda waved her hand dismissively, as if waving away a pesky fly. “Oh, please. They wouldn’t let me take him without an excuse. It was a white lie to get a necessary job done. Look at him! He looks so handsome.”
