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Lissa, sweetheart, Charles will come tomorrow evening and drive you into London so you can get your hair done," Merrill touched fingers lightly to my strawberry blonde curls. If my hair is shorter, it curls. It only straightens out if I keep it longer and it had been long—past my shoulders long—before I'd attempted to kill myself in the sun last February.
"That sounds like so much fun for him," I grumped. There wasn't any way, though, that Merrill or any of the others would let me out of their sight without an escort.
"He finds it quite enjoyable; he has asked every other day if he could take you for an outing."
"Poor Charles. He needs to get a life," I said.
"Have you ever wanted a brother, sweetheart? Charles wants that role, I think." I blinked up at Merrill as he spoke those words.
"Really?" I'd never had anything like that. My face fell immediately. A brother was someone who would keep your secrets. I would never have that luxury with Charles.
"Lissa, most things you could tell Charles. He does not carry everything he hears directly to Wlodek, you know. Charles has an insatiable curiosity, but he also knows how to keep secrets."
He knew I wouldn't consider confiding in Charles from my expression. "My poor baby." Merrill gently touched my cheek.
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