Chapter 32

Neve

“Sit,” Ellie says, pointing at the kitchen chair she’s dragged into the middle of Asher’s kitchen. “And don’t look at me like that. I’ve done this a thousand times.”

“On a mannequin.”

“On Mrs. Pruitt, too. And Lena. And half the old ladies in this pack.” She shakes out a towel and snaps it like a cape. “Mrs. Pruitt says I’m the only one in Hollow Creek who doesn’t make her look like a poodle. That’s a professional endorsement.”

I sit.

It’s Sunday. Asher is out on patrol, and the house by the river is quiet except for the radio playing low in the living room and the snow ticking against the windows. Ellie has laid out her tools on the table like a surgeon: combs, clips, two pairs of scissors, a spray bottle, a little leather case she opens with great ceremony to show me a pair of