Page 1 of Deceived Wrath

Chapter One

FIONA

"What would I do without you?"

I paste on more bleach to Zoe's hair. "You, my vain best friend, are lucky that I love you because I think I'm getting high from the fumes."

We're packed into her tiny bathroom.

The room is barely big enough for both of us to stand in, so of course we decided that locking ourselves inside while in the presence of a crap ton of hydrogen peroxide was a good idea.

My head hurts, and my eyes are watering, but I can't exactly stop now, otherwise Zoe will look more likeCruellathanThe Mother of Dragons. Not that it would look bad on her, of course, she would rock it. She looks great either way. ButCruellais not the look she is aiming for right now.

Zoe laughs. "Getting high will do you good."

I catch her eye in the mirror and frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Regret hits me the moment the last word leaves my lips because Zoe's answering sigh lets me know I need to brace myself.

One of the things I love most about Zoe is her unwavering ability to be honest. I just wish said ability wasn't about to be directed at me.

Me and my big mouth.

"It means that you're twenty-two years old, and your idea of a fun night is staying at home and cleaning your kitchen."

"So what? Is it a crime that I like a clean space? What is so wrong with being clean?"

Zoe snorts. "There's clean, and then there's you, Fiona."

I hold up a hand with a dollop of the goo I'm putting on her hair. "Remember that I'm the one with the bleach here. You better not annoy me."

I section off another strand of her hair and lather on more bleach. I've already done the tresses, and we have now moved to the roots.

"Quick question. It's normal for my scalp to be burning, right?"

"What? Oh god, I'm going to make my best friend bald." I set down the bowl and snatch the bleach packet, furiously reading the back.

Zoe laughs, pointing at my look of horror in the mirror. "Oh my god, your face! Fiona, I'm kidding. I've been bleaching my hair for years. By now, my scalp is practically numb. And if my hair does end up falling out, it's no big deal. I think I could rock the bald look."

My shoulders sag, and I shake my head as a smile dances on my face.

Picking up the bowl of bleach, I finish off the section. "You can rock any look. Have you ever thought of just going natural?"

"Never. Natural is boring."

"God forbid you beboring," I tease.

"Unfortunately, some of us weren't born with blonde locks. You don't know how lucky you are, Fi."

"Trust me, I am anything but lucky," I mutter.

It's true that what Zoe is trying to achieve with a box of bleaching goo, I was given by way of genetics.

A glance in the mirror reminds me that I'm the youngest version of my sister, a woman I always looked up to, someone who helped me learn to love my short height and unusual hair.

My eyes lower to my hands and the goo in the bowl. Looking in the mirror hurts too much because I no longer see myself. All I see is her.

And her fall from the pedestal I put her on has leftmebroken.