Is her hair different? It looks different. Not that I’d notice something like that . . . although if I did, it’s not because I stared into her soul or anything. It just looks . . . oh, maybe it’s because she’s not wearing a winter hat. So that’s her forehead. Nice. I mean . . . no, not nice. I don’t care what her forehead looks like. It’s just a forehead. There’s nothing nice about it. It’s bland. Boring. “I can see your forehead,” I say in greeting. “What do you mean, you can see my forehead?” she says as her hand covers it. Yeah, what do you mean, Cole?
