I lean down to inspect the contents, and my heart jumps into my throat. “What’s this?” I’m not asking what it actually is, because I have eyes, and I can see that’s he bought me a veritable rainbow of hair dyes. Bright colors, all of them. “Your sister needs you,” Nash tells me, and then his hands find their way to my face—again. I can’t help remembering the other times, can’t help remembering Cartago. “She needs you, Lib.” The real me. That’s what he’s saying.
