His voice trembled — not with attitude, but with something deeper. I leaned forward, waiting. Finally, he said, “The kids laughed at me. Said my hair looks stupid… patchy.”
I felt my chest tighten. “Patchy?” I asked gently.
He stopped there, his words trailing off like something heavy he wasn’t ready to name.
The Truth Beneath the Hat
I told him I knew a bit about cutting hair and asked if he’d let me help tidy it up. After a moment, he agreed. When I lifted the brim of his hat, I froze.
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