There is unspoken power when it comes to hair, as odd as that might seem. To cut a lock from a sleeping god is a powerful move; my mother could have demanded anything of my father in exchange for those strands, because it would have shamed him to know she had been awake while he had slept. That he had been vulnerable in her presence. But rather than making a demand of him, Zenia had used it for my horoscope. To skirt around the name she would not utter.
