The other barbers grinned, wiping sweat and hair from their necks.
The heaviness in the air melted into warmth, even laughter. As Jake swept the floor, she stood, running her hand over her bare scalp.
The air felt cool against her skin — vulnerable, yes, but also freeing. Outside, sunlight kissed her newly shaved head.
She closed her eyes and breathed.
It wasn’t just hair that had fallen to the floor that day; it was fear, shame, and the weight of hiding. The barbers didn’t just give her a haircut — they gave her courage, a reminder that empathy, even in silence, can be the loudest act of all.
