Letty had watched her own father lose his hair to treatment. “Your dad would be so proud of you,” I whispered. We took her hair to a salon and had it made into a wig, and she brought it to school glowing.
The next morning the principal called. “Come right away. It’s about Letty.” My hands went cold. “Is she hurt?” “You need to see it with your own eyes.”
I raced there imagining every disaster. The principal, pale, opened his office door.
And I nearly collapsed.
Because the room was full of children.
And every single one of them had cut off their hair.
PART 2
I stood in that doorway and could not process what I was seeing.
