“What did you do to my daughter?”
“I didn’t cut her hair.”
“But you were with her.”
“Yes.”
“And she told me to ask you.”
Nadine sighed and stepped onto the porch, closing the door behindher.
“She asked me not to explain it.”
“She’s twelve.”
“I know how old she is.”
“Then stop treating this like some secret between the two of you.”
Nadine’s expression tightened.
“It isn’t a secret against you.”
“It certainly feels like one.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Nadine said quietly, “There’s a choir performance tomorrow night.”
I stared at her.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Come.”
“Nadine.”
“Come to the performance.”
“I have work.”
The moment the words left my mouth, something flickered acrossher face.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
That irritated me even more.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
