Chapter 224 9

• Chapter 9
• When we get to the house, I insist that Hazel sit at the dining room table and start her homework, a habit I’m trying to re-instill. In so many ways, her year away with Melanie has rusticated her; she’s like an escaped animal who’s gone feral. I have to retrain her on all her old, good habits.
• I sit across from her where my laptop is already open on the table, and take a moment to watch her. She’s completely unselfconscious, her head bent over her work thoughtfully as she scrawls notes on a page. She bites her bottom lip, two white teeth stabbing the swollen flesh of her full lip, and her hair—pulled back but coming loose—drapes over the sides of her face. Her mother’s brilliant red hair. A little Melanie, but one who’s sweet, and unjaded, and sincere.