Chapter 1: Hair Grows Back
The sound of scissors cutting through my mother's hair was the moment my wedding died.
SNIP!
A thick section of her beautiful gray-black hair fell onto the white tablecloth, landing beside a crystal champagne glass.
My mother screamed. My future sister-in-law laughed. And my fiancé stood three feet away, watching as if someone had merely spilled a drink.
I was twenty-nine years old, wearing a wedding gown that had taken six months to choose, standing beneath crystal chandeliers in a ballroom filled with three hundred guests.
And in less than thirty seconds, I discovered that the man I was about to marry was a stranger.
"Oops!"" Vanessa Brooks exclaimed, holding up the silver scissors.
"Looks like somebody needed a little makeover!""
My mother, Evelyn Carter, clutched the side of her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her trembling fingers touched the jagged patch Vanessa had cut above her ear.
"Why would you do that?"" my mother whispered.
Vanessa tilted her head, examining her handiwork.
"Honestly, Evelyn, you should be thanking me. That hairstyle was doing absolutely nothing for you.""
A few guests gasped. Someone near the bar muttered, "That's disgusting.""
Vanessa heard him.
She turned toward the crowd and lifted her chin.
"Oh, please. It was a joke. Everybody needs to learn how to laugh at themselves.""
I crossed the ballroom so quickly that my bouquet slipped from my hand.
"What did you do to my mother?""
Vanessa's smile widened.
"Good grief, Nia. You'd think I stabbed her.""
"Give me those scissors.""
"Don't be dramatic.""
"NOW.""
For the first time, Vanessa's expression flickered.
She glanced at my fiancé, Marcus Brooks, as if expecting him to rescue her.
He did.
"Nia, calm down," Marcus said, stepping between us.
"You're making everyone uncomfortable.""
I stared at him.
"Your sister just cut my mother's hair.""
Marcus sighed and adjusted his cuff links.
"Hair grows back.""
Four words.
That was all my mother's humiliation was worth to him.
I looked past his shoulder. My mother sat rigidly in her chair, trying to gather the severed strands with her shaking hands. Her burgundy dress, the one she'd bought after saving a little money from every paycheck, was covered in tiny black hairs.
She wasn't looking at Vanessa anymore.
She was looking at me.
And somehow, that hurt worse.
"Nia," she whispered, "please don't let this ruin your wedding.""
My throat tightened.
Even now, she was protecting me.
My mother had raised me alone after my father died when I was seven. She cleaned office buildings before sunrise and worked the evening shift at a nursing home. There were nights when she'd come home so exhausted she fell asleep at the kitchen table with her shoes still on.
When I needed money for a school trip, she sold her gold bracelet.
When I struggled to afford my college entrance exams, she took extra shifts.
When Marcus proposed, she cried harder than I did.
She'd spent the past three months helping me plan this wedding, carefully comparing flower prices and sewing tiny loops into the lining of my dress so the train wouldn't snag.
She'd even insisted on paying for her own outfit because she didn't want me spending money on her.
And now Marcus's sister had turned her into a spectacle.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Apologize.""
She blinked.
"What?""
"Apologize to my mother.""
Vanessa laughed.
"You're actually serious?""
"Yes.""
"Fine. I'm sorry your hair is so thin that a little trim makes such a difference.""
A woman at the nearest table covered her mouth.
My mother lowered her eyes.
Something hot and sharp moved through my chest.
I turned to Marcus.
"Are you going to let her speak to my mother like that?""
He looked genuinely annoyed.
"Vanessa has always had a sense of humor. You knew that when you got involved with this family.""
"Your sister is twenty-eight years old. She knows exactly what she's doing.""
"She's my sister, Nia.""
"And she's hurting my mother.""
"Enough."" His voice hardened.
"This is our wedding day. The last thing we need is you turning a stupid prank into some family feud.""
I searched his face for the man I'd fallen in love with.
Two years earlier, Marcus had sat beside me in a hospital waiting room when my mother needed emergency surgery. He'd brought me coffee, held my hand, and promised he would always treat her like his own family.
I'd believed him.
I'd told myself that his occasional dismissiveness was just stress from running his construction company.
I'd convinced myself that Vanessa's insults were harmless because Marcus always said she'd eventually grow up.
But watching him stand beside her now, protecting her from the consequences of her own cruelty, I finally understood something.
He hadn't failed to notice how she treated my mother.
He simply didn't believe it mattered.
Vanessa leaned against his shoulder.
"See? This is why I said you shouldn't marry her, Marcus. She takes everything personally.""
He didn't move away from her.
Instead, he said, "Nia, apologize to Vanessa for screaming at her in front of everyone.""
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
"You want me to apologize?""
"Yes. She made a mistake. You don't have to destroy the entire evening over it.""
I looked at the scissors.
Then at the locks of my mother's hair scattered across the tablecloth.
Then at Vanessa, who was already smiling again because she believed she'd won.
I reached for the scissors.
Marcus straightened.
"Nia, don't.""
I ignored him.
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
"What are you doing?""
I walked toward her.
She backed away, clutching the front of her designer dress.
"Marcus!""
I stopped in front of her.
"You said hair grows back, right?""
Her eyes widened.
"Don't you dare.""
I caught a long section of her silky black hair where it fell over her shoulder.
SNIP!
The severed lock dropped onto the table.
Vanessa screamed so loudly that the string quartet members lowered their instruments.
"YOU PSYCHOTIC BITCH!""
Marcus lunged toward me.
"What the hell is wrong with you?""
I released the scissors and stepped back.
"Interesting," I said quietly.
"When it was my mother's hair, it was a joke.""
Vanessa clutched her uneven hair, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"You ruined my hair!""
I looked at her.
"And you ruined my wedding.""
Marcus moved in front of his sister.
"You've lost your mind.""
"No," I replied.
"I think I've finally found it.""
He stared at me as though he couldn't understand why I wasn't crying, begging for forgiveness, or apologizing for embarrassing him.
Then I removed my engagement ring.
The diamond caught the chandelier light as I held it between my fingers.
Two years ago, Marcus had proposed on a rooftop overlooking the city. He'd promised me a home filled with laughter, children who would grow up surrounded by love, and a future in which neither of us would ever have to face hardship alone.
I had imagined growing old beside him.
Now, I couldn't imagine spending another day pretending I respected him.
I placed the ring on the table beside the scissors and the severed hair.
"There won't be a wedding.""
The ballroom fell silent.
Marcus stared at the ring.
"Nia, pick that up.""
"No.""
"You're upset. We'll discuss this privately.""
"I don't want to discuss anything with you.""
His jaw tightened.
"Don't embarrass me like this.""
I almost laughed.
There it was again.
Not concern for my mother. Not regret over his sister's behavior.
Embarrassment.
Vanessa pointed at me.
"Marcus, do something! She can't just humiliate us and walk away!""
I turned toward my mother.
"Mom, can you stand?""
She nodded, although her legs trembled when she rose.
I slipped my arm around her shoulders.
"We're going home.""
Marcus grabbed my wrist.
"Nia, stop acting like a child.""
I pulled away so sharply that he stumbled half a step.
"Don't touch me.""
His expression changed.
For the first time that afternoon, he looked uncertain.
Then his gaze dropped to the ivory envelope tucked into my bouquet.
The color drained from his face.
"Nia," he said, suddenly quiet.
"Where did you get that?""
I pulled the envelope free.
Three days earlier, I'd found something that had made me question whether marrying Marcus was the biggest mistake of my life.
I'd planned to confront him in private after the ceremony.
I had wanted an explanation.
I'd wanted him to tell me there was some innocent reason his name appeared on a document I had never seen before.
But as I watched him stare at that envelope, I realized he wasn't afraid of losing me.
He was afraid of what I knew.
I held the envelope against my chest.
"Marcus, why did you forge my mother's signature on a loan agreement?""
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Behind him, Vanessa stopped crying.
And from somewhere near the ballroom entrance, a man's voice cut through the silence.
"Because that loan is only the beginning.""
Everyone turned.
A gray-haired man in a charcoal suit stood beside the doors, holding a thick leather folder.
Marcus looked as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Mr. Whitmore?"" he whispered.
The man glanced at my mother's ruined hair.
May you like
Then he looked directly at Marcus.
"Mr. Brooks, I believe it's time we discussed who actually owns your company.""
