“I remember this hair,” she said. “Do you know how rare it is to get twenty-four inches with no dye on it? I’ve been doing this thirty-one years. I’ve had maybe two hundred like it.”

“Who has it?”

Bev put the card down. “I’m not going to tell you a name, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m sure you understand why.”

“I do.”

“But I’ll tell you that she’s alive. I know that because she came back in February for a re-tie and I did it for free, which I do when they make it two years.”

She looked at me over the loupe. “And I’ll tell her you asked. If she wants to find you, she’ll find you.”