She left, closing the door with a soft click that sounded like a threat.
Eloin’s whole body trembled. Slowly she bent to pick up the fallen hair. That was when she saw it—a metallic glint among the blonde strands. Something thin and silver, not hair at all.
She froze.
She set the hair aside and carefully picked up the thing that had caught the light. It was cold in her fingers, thin as a wire, sharp along the edges. Tiny letters were etched into the metal, small enough she had to squint to read them.
VLab.
Her father’s company.
Why was there metal in her hair?
She wrapped the wire in tissue, hands shaking, and hid it under the sink behind a stack of folded towels. Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it. Something was wrong. Something had been wrong for a long time.
Across town, in a cramped apartment that always smelled faintly of detergent and coffee, seven-year-old Sky Brooks bounced on the sagging couch. Her mom had just told her about a new job—cleaning for a very rich family.
“Can I come with you?” Sky asked.
She was a Black American girl with bright, curious eyes and braids threaded with colorful plastic beads that clacked softly when she moved. Her excitement filled the room.