“Keep it short and sharp,” I said.

“Short is the easy part,” Rose said, switching on her small professional clippers with a low, even hum.

“A haircut only covers what’s on the surface, Mariana.

Whatever’s underneath stays completely yours.”

She worked for twenty minutes without a word, shaping the dark hair into a neat pixie cut that framed my cheekbones in precise lines.

When she shut off the clippers, she handed me a small white consultation card with her name printed on the front.

“Keep this in your wallet,” Rose said, brushing a fleck of towel lint off my collar.