Michael swallowed.
“She said she wanted to give you a surprise makeover. Last night.”
“And you thought I had agreed?”
“No.”
The answer came so softly I almost missed it.
Sabrina crossed her arms.
“He knew you wouldn’t agree. That was the point.”
Michael turned toward her.
“You said you were going to trim it.”
“You laughed.”
His mouth closed.
For a moment, I could hear only the little clock on the mantel.
Then Michael said, “I did.”
That hurt differently from the cold air on my head. There was nowhere to put my hand to make it stop.
“You knew she intended to touch me while I slept.”
“I didn’t know she meant this.”
“But you knew she meant something.”
He nodded.
Sabrina took a step toward him.
“Don’t let her turn you against me over hair.”
I watched him wait. The familiar hesitation, the careful calculation of whose anger would cost him more. I had watched it over dinner tables for years.
Then he moved away from her.
“Stop saying that.”
She stared at him.
“You were laughing yesterday.”
“Yes,” he said. “I was.”
He looked at me.
“I thought if I stayed out of it, everything would be easier.”
“For whom?”
He had no answer.
Sabrina glanced at the wig on the table.
“She looks perfectly fine with that. We can settle this without ruining the entire evening.”
“The gift is canceled,” I said.
Her gaze snapped back to me.
“You can’t do that.”
“The transfer never happened.”
For the first time, her composure broke completely.
“We have made plans.”
“With money that was mine.”
“Michael, say something.”
