in this post and my last one. There are pictures of her with her hair pulled back, down straight, curled, and wearing hats. Who knows what she could look like when she walks down the street next to you?
Macy didn't take any extra clothes or makeup. She wasn't planning on being gone for more than the evening. Someone has my baby girl, and one of you could be the one to help find her. Thank you again.
Chad pushed the schedule button and then sat back in his chair. So much for not having any words. He took a deep breath, ignoring the lump in his throat. What else could he do? His work had given him the week off with pay, so he had nothing to do except worry about Macy.
He looked at his scheduled post, scanning for errors. He couldn't see any mistakes, but that didn't mean anything. He wasn't thinking straight.
Going back to Macy's Facebook profile, he saw even more comments from friends. Or at least he assumed they were her friends. Maybe she had opened her page up for anyone to see. It had obviously been too long since he had given her a lecture about Internet safety. He was online all the time, he should have been more aware of what his kids were doing.
Reading all the messages, his eyes became heavy. He looked out the window and saw that it was still dark. He knew he wouldn't sleep long anyway, so he turned off his screen and went to the couch at the far end of his office. He pulled an afghan over himself and fell right to sleep.
Changes
Macy stood by the window in Heather's room, looking outside. Absentmindedly, she ran her fingers along the tops of the nails that kept her inside. Leaves lay all over the ground, and the ones in the shade still had frost on them.
She heard a noise behind her and turned around. Chester held a gray plastic bag in one hand. "We have something to take care of."
"What?" Macy eyed the bag, unable to tell what was inside.
"No questions. Follow me."
Her shoulders slumped, and she followed him into the bathroom.
"Ladies first." He moved aside.
Macy's heart pounded as she stepped inside. He grabbed a dark green towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then he pulled a white box from the plastic bag and set it on the counter. It was a box of hair dye.
"What's that?" Macy exclaimed. He was actually going to change her hair color, wasn't he?
"I said no questions." He opened the box, looked at the instructions, poured one bottle of stuff into another, and then shook it. The liquid turned a bright, orange color. He turned to her, and Macy held her breath. He had to be joking.
Chester squeezed the cold liquid onto her hair and rubbed it in. He piled the hair in a messy heap on her head and told her not to move. Then he pulled out his phone and appeared to play a game.
Macy looked into the mirror in horror. What was he doing to her hair? After what felt like an eternity, he forced her head into the sink and rinsed out the dye. She gasped in shock at the sight of her newly colored hair.
"Use the towel to dry it." He shoved another towel at her.
She stared at him in disbelief.
"Was I speaking in a foreign language? Dry your hair!"
Macy flipped her head down in front of her stomach and dried it as best she could with only a towel.
Chester pointed to the toilet. "Sit."
Blood drained from Macy's head. "You want me to go to the bathroom?"
His eyebrows came together. "No. I'm cutting your hair. Now sit!"
She sat.
Chester pulled out a large pair of scissors.
"Have you cut hair before?"
"I watched a video online. Now shut up."
Macy's stomach twisted in knots. She closed her eyes, unable to watch. The slicing, snipping sounds of the scissors sounded all around her head.
"Done," Chester said. "Now, we need to get ready for your grandparents' return. They're eager to see you. Do you remember what to say when they ask about your mom?"
Macy clenched her fists. "She's still in Paris."
"Perfect. After lunch, it'll be time to clean."
Macy nodded and stood up. She glanced at
Macy didn't take any extra clothes or makeup. She wasn't planning on being gone for more than the evening. Someone has my baby girl, and one of you could be the one to help find her. Thank you again.
Chad pushed the schedule button and then sat back in his chair. So much for not having any words. He took a deep breath, ignoring the lump in his throat. What else could he do? His work had given him the week off with pay, so he had nothing to do except worry about Macy.
He looked at his scheduled post, scanning for errors. He couldn't see any mistakes, but that didn't mean anything. He wasn't thinking straight.
Going back to Macy's Facebook profile, he saw even more comments from friends. Or at least he assumed they were her friends. Maybe she had opened her page up for anyone to see. It had obviously been too long since he had given her a lecture about Internet safety. He was online all the time, he should have been more aware of what his kids were doing.
Reading all the messages, his eyes became heavy. He looked out the window and saw that it was still dark. He knew he wouldn't sleep long anyway, so he turned off his screen and went to the couch at the far end of his office. He pulled an afghan over himself and fell right to sleep.
Changes
Macy stood by the window in Heather's room, looking outside. Absentmindedly, she ran her fingers along the tops of the nails that kept her inside. Leaves lay all over the ground, and the ones in the shade still had frost on them.
She heard a noise behind her and turned around. Chester held a gray plastic bag in one hand. "We have something to take care of."
"What?" Macy eyed the bag, unable to tell what was inside.
"No questions. Follow me."
Her shoulders slumped, and she followed him into the bathroom.
"Ladies first." He moved aside.
Macy's heart pounded as she stepped inside. He grabbed a dark green towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then he pulled a white box from the plastic bag and set it on the counter. It was a box of hair dye.
"What's that?" Macy exclaimed. He was actually going to change her hair color, wasn't he?
"I said no questions." He opened the box, looked at the instructions, poured one bottle of stuff into another, and then shook it. The liquid turned a bright, orange color. He turned to her, and Macy held her breath. He had to be joking.
Chester squeezed the cold liquid onto her hair and rubbed it in. He piled the hair in a messy heap on her head and told her not to move. Then he pulled out his phone and appeared to play a game.
Macy looked into the mirror in horror. What was he doing to her hair? After what felt like an eternity, he forced her head into the sink and rinsed out the dye. She gasped in shock at the sight of her newly colored hair.
"Use the towel to dry it." He shoved another towel at her.
She stared at him in disbelief.
"Was I speaking in a foreign language? Dry your hair!"
Macy flipped her head down in front of her stomach and dried it as best she could with only a towel.
Chester pointed to the toilet. "Sit."
Blood drained from Macy's head. "You want me to go to the bathroom?"
His eyebrows came together. "No. I'm cutting your hair. Now sit!"
She sat.
Chester pulled out a large pair of scissors.
"Have you cut hair before?"
"I watched a video online. Now shut up."
Macy's stomach twisted in knots. She closed her eyes, unable to watch. The slicing, snipping sounds of the scissors sounded all around her head.
"Done," Chester said. "Now, we need to get ready for your grandparents' return. They're eager to see you. Do you remember what to say when they ask about your mom?"
Macy clenched her fists. "She's still in Paris."
"Perfect. After lunch, it'll be time to clean."
Macy nodded and stood up. She glanced at
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