The rain washed over her. Her reflection in a puddle showed a girl with tangled hair, a scraped cheek from the tree bark, and no bow at all. She looked tired. She looked ordinary. She looked like herself.
She yanked. A strand of hair pulled loose, and the bow came free. The red satin seemed to gasp—then went still, just a limp scrap of fabric in her palm. red hair bow
The girl’s smile faded. “She cut off her hair to remove the bow. Then she burned it. Took years to find herself again.” She stood up, rain plastering her hair to her face. “I buried this one so no one else would find it. But you did. And now it’s feeding on you.” The rain washed over her
The girl nodded. “It will hurt for a while. The quiet. But you’ll fill it with real things.” She looked ordinary