Part 2Becoming Summer

The driver, who told me to call him Leo, parked in front of a house so big and bright it hurt my eyes. It had white pillars and huge windows, grander than all the houses in my town put together.

But I didn’t go in through the big, shiny front door.

Leo took my hand and led me around the back, to a small, hidden door that opened into the basement.

“Kiddo,” he said softly. “This is our home now.”

The room was tiny, with a metal-frame bed, a wobbly table, and piles of clutter. The concrete walls were damp to the touch. The only light came from a single, high window, a small rectangle that showed the feet of people walking by outside.

I was happy. It was so much better than the shack. And from here, I could see my mother every day.

Sometimes, I was allowed into the backyard for a bit of air. I would see her—I learned her name was Evelyn now—drifting through the rose garden. She wore beautiful, silky dresses that shimmered in the sun, like a fairy from a picture book. Mr. Ashford would be at her side, his hand on her arm. She was still pale, but she was slowly gaining weight.

Once, I was staring too hard, and her eyes met mine by accident. Her expression froze, then hardened into a look of pure disgust, like she’d just spotted a cockroach. She turned abruptly and hurried back inside.

Not long after I moved into the basement, my hair had started to grow back in a fuzzy, blond stubble. The family had guests—Evelyn’s cousin and her daughter, Lily, who was about my age. Lily was dressed in a pink, frilly dress with a big bow in her perfectly curled hair. She looked like a doll.

Everyone adored her. Mr. Ashford patted her head gently. Evelyn even gave her a rare, faint smile, telling the housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, to bring out the best cookies and toys.

I watched from the top of the basement stairs, hidden in the shadows. Leo had warned me to stay out of sight.

But Lily found me.

She tiptoed down a few steps, her head cocked. Then she pointed at my head and burst out laughing. “Mommy, look! It’s a bald freak! She’s so ugly!”

My face burned with shame. I instinctively covered my head with my hands. Her mother gave a half-hearted tug on her arm. “Lily, that’s not nice.” But the adults upstairs paid no mind, their conversation continuing uninterrupted.

Lily took that as permission. Later, while the grown-ups were talking in the living room, she snuck over to my basement room. She snatched the only toy I owned—a one-armed doll Leo had found for me—threw it on the floor, and stomped on it. “Baldies only play with trash!” she sneered.

I trembled with rage, tears welling in my eyes, but I bit them back. I remembered my mother’s revulsion. I remembered Leo’s warning not to cause trouble. I bit my lip until it bled, picked up my dirt-stained doll, and wiped it clean with my sleeve.

That afternoon, she took a sparkly rhinestone hair clip Evelyn had given her, and hid it under the thin, lumpy mattress on my bed.

Then she ran upstairs, screaming. “My hair clip is gone! The one Aunt Evelyn gave me! It must have been the bald girl! She was staring at my hair all morning!”

The house erupted. Lily’s mom grabbed her crying daughter, her voice sharp. “Evelyn, really… I know the girl comes from a rough place, but you have to teach her not to steal.”

Evelyn’s face turned ashen. Without even asking, she snapped at Mrs. Gable, “Go get her. Now.”

I was dragged into the living room. My bare, dusty feet were a smudge on the pristine white carpet. I clutched the hem of my worn dress. “I didn’t… I didn’t take it…” I whispered.

“Liar!” Evelyn’s voice was shrill. “Did the clip just get up and walk away? I knew you were no good!”

Mr. Ashford, sitting on the sofa, simply frowned at his newspaper. “What’s all the noise? It’s a small thing. If she took it, she can give it back. Just try to have cleaner hands in the future.”

“Search her room!” Evelyn commanded.

Mrs. Gable found the clip in seconds. From behind her mother’s skirt, Lily gave me a smug, triumphant smile.

Evelyn looked humiliated. Her chest heaved as she pointed a shaking finger at me, turning to Leo. “Leo! Is this the good girl you’re raising? A common thief? Lock her in the basement. No food for three days! Let her think about what she’s done! I don’t want to see her face!”

Leo opened his mouth, then closed it with a heavy sigh. He took my hand and led me back down the stairs. The door clicked shut, plunging the room into near darkness.

I curled up on the cold bed, my stomach aching with hunger, but it was nothing compared to the cold in my heart. I didn’t cry. I just thought, Mommy is even angrier now. I did something wrong again.

Maybe if I had hair, they wouldn’t think I was a thief. Maybe if I’d hidden better, Lily wouldn’t have found me.

The three days were hard. Leo would sneak me crusts of bread and a cup of cold water. As I chewed the stale bread, a single, anxious thought consumed me: What if Mommy gets sick from being so angry? She’s already so frail.