Capítulo 1: El sonido que detuvo una boda
La maquinilla eléctrica negra zumbaba contra el cuero cabelludo de Maisie Mercer, de seis años, mientras otro mechón de cabello castaño caía sobre el pulido suelo de mármol.
—Por favor —sollozó la niña—. Quiero a mi papá.
Vivian Cross se rió.
Su tiara enjoyada brillaba bajo la lámpara de araña del vestidor. Su vestido de novia blanco sin tirantes se extendía por el suelo, y su delicado corpiño de encaje reflejaba la luz del enorme espejo del tocador.
“Deberías haber pensado en eso antes de arruinar mi día especial”, dijo ella.
Los hombros de Maisie se encogieron hacia adentro.
La mayor parte de su cabello ya se había caído. Solo quedaba un mechón largo cerca de su oreja izquierda, y Vivian lo sostenía entre dos dedos.
“Quédate quieto.”
“¡No!”
Vivian volvió a encender la maquinilla.
La niña cerró los ojos con fuerza.
Al otro lado de la habitación, Nora Reyes, una de las empleadas domésticas, dio un paso al frente.
—Señora Cross, por favor. Está asustada.
Vivian le lanzó una mirada de advertencia.
“Entonces quizás debería aprender a comportarse.”
La segunda asistente, Alice Keene, estaba de pie cerca de la puerta. Tenía el rostro pálido, pero no hizo ningún intento por intervenir.
Nora se acercó.
“Solo tiene seis años.”
“Y me caso dentro de una hora.”
Vivian levantó la maquinilla hacia la sección de cabello restante.
Entonces cesó el zumbido.
No porque Vivian hubiera terminado.
Porque la voz de un hombre había resonado en la habitación.
¿Qué demonios estás haciendo?
Daniel Mercer estaba parado en la puerta.
Alto y de hombros anchos, vestía un traje oscuro impecablemente confeccionado sobre una camisa negra de cuello abierto. Los tatuajes se extendían por encima del cuello de la camisa y cubrían el dorso de sus manos.
Su expresión era terriblemente inmóvil.
Vivian bajó la esquiladora.
“Daniel. Cariño.”
No respondió.
Sus ojos se movieron desde la máquina que ella sostenía en la mano hasta el cabello castaño esparcido por el suelo.
Entonces vio a su hija.
El rostro de Maisie estaba bañado en lágrimas. Su pequeño vestido floreado colgaba holgadamente alrededor de su cuerpo tembloroso, y su cuero cabelludo recién descubierto era inconfundible.
“¿Papá?”
La palabra apenas escapó de su boca.
Daniel cruzó la habitación.
“¿Quién hizo esto?”
Vivian soltó una risa nerviosa.
“No armes un escándalo. Se estaba portando fatal, y…”
“¿Quién le tocó el pelo?”
La sonrisa de Vivian desapareció.
“Daniel, me estás avergonzando.”
Se detuvo justo delante de ella.
“Tienes la maquinilla de cortar pelo en la mano.”
Por primera vez, el miedo genuino apareció en los ojos de Vivian.
Ella retrocedió.
“Estaba arreglando algo que ella misma había hecho.”
Detrás de Daniel, Nora ya estaba arrodillada junto a Maisie.
La niña pequeña agarró la manga del asistente.
“No dejes que lo vuelva a hacer.”
Daniel heard her.
His jaw tightened.
Vivian reached for his arm.
“Listen to me. Your daughter has been acting out for weeks. I’ve tried everything to—”
“Don’t touch me.”
She pulled back, offended.
“You’re choosing a child’s tantrum over your future wife?”
Daniel looked at the floor.
At the severed locks.
At the black stool where someone had positioned his daughter.
Then at the woman he had intended to marry.
“You think this is about a tantrum?”
Vivian moved to step around him.
“I’m getting my mother. She’ll explain.”
Daniel caught her upper arm, stopping her from approaching Maisie.
“Stay away from my daughter.”
Vivian twisted sharply against his grip.
Her heel caught the chrome base of the salon stool.
She stumbled toward the dressing table, knocking several makeup bottles from the counter before dropping onto the floor.
Her enormous white skirt spread across the marble.
“You hurt me!” she shouted.
Daniel released her immediately.
He stood motionless, looking down at her.
Then he saw the enormous gemstone ring on her left hand.
The ring he had placed there eight months earlier.
Vivian extended her hand toward him, almost instinctively.
“Daniel, please. Help me up.”
He crouched beside her.
For a moment, she seemed relieved.
Then he spoke quietly.
“The ring.”
She stared.
“What?”
“Give it back.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m not marrying you.”
Her face drained of color.
She looked at his outstretched hand, then slowly held out her own.
Daniel slid the ring from her finger.
He looked once at the blue gemstone.
Then he let it fall.
It struck the marble beside the severed brown hair with a small, sharp sound.
Vivian flinched.
Daniel turned away.
He walked to his daughter and lowered himself until their eyes were level.
Nora kept one protective arm around Maisie’s shoulders.
“Sweetheart,” Daniel whispered. “Look at me.”
Maisie opened her eyes.
Her lower lip trembled.
“Am I ugly now?”
Something in Daniel’s expression broke.
“No, baby.”
He carefully reached toward her cheek but stopped before touching her.
“Can I hold you?”
She nodded.
He gathered her into his arms.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Maisie pressed her mouth against his ear.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here.”
“She said you’d send me away if I told you.”
Daniel went cold.
He pulled back just enough to see her face.
“Who said that?”
Maisie looked over his shoulder.
Not at Vivian.
Not at Alice.
At the hallway beyond the dressing room.
“She said Grandma Judith already made the arrangements.”
Daniel stopped breathing for a moment.
Judith Cross was Vivian’s mother.
And she was the person who had convinced him to leave Maisie in Vivian’s care that morning.
Chapter 2: The Story They Wanted Her to Tell
“Everybody stays exactly where they are.”
Daniel’s voice was low, but nobody mistook it for a request.
Vivian sat against the dressing room curtains, one hand gripping her swollen skirt.
“You can’t keep me here!”
“I’m not keeping you anywhere.”
Daniel took out his phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Vivian’s expression changed.
“Daniel, don’t be ridiculous. It’s a haircut.”
Maisie buried her face against his chest.
He felt her flinch at the word.
