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Phone Call
Lucian's voice came steady through the line. "Have you landed safely?"
"Yes. We're home already," Mirabel said, glancing around the familiar living room.
"That's good." A pause, then his voice dropped. "Any news on who did it?"
"I'm still digging," he replied. "But it wasn't paparazzi. I checked the hotel's security tapes — the guy didn't move like a professional. Clumsy. Nervous. It looks like he was working for someone."
Mirabel frowned. "Then who would want to expose me, if not the paparazzi?"
"I don't know. But I'll find out." His tone was firm, a promise buried in steel.
"Okay." She exhaled, softer now. "I'm holding a press conference tomorrow."
"What time?"
"Evening, probably. I have to… change my look first. Cut my hair short, dye it black. Maybe some other things. I'm taking Cherry out for a mother–daughter day."
Lucian was quiet for a beat. Then, lightly: "Could you… not cut your hair? And maybe dye it pink instead?"
"Pink?" She blinked. "Why pink? I thought you liked short-haired girls."
"It's not that." He chuckled under his breath. "I just think you look beautiful with long hair. And pink—" his voice dipped "—would make you look… unforgettable."
Mirabel's cheeks warmed, and she found herself smiling at the wall. "Fine. Pink it is."
"Good."
"Bye, Lucian."
"Bye."
She ended the call, still smiling faintly when Cherry scrambled onto her lap. "Mum! Mum! Can I dye my hair now too?"
"Not now, Cherry. I don't want your hair damaged."
Cherry pouted, then relented with a grin. "Okay, Mum."
"Lunch is ready!" Charlie called. The three of them gathered at the dining table.
"Charlie, this tastes amazing," Mirabel said after the first bite.
"You're the best chef," Cherry chimed in. "You cook better than Mum!"
Charlie's face glowed with pride, and Mirabel laughed softly, letting the warmth of her children momentarily melt the weight on her shoulders.
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The Next Day
"Cherry, ready for the salon?"
"Yes, Mum!" Cherry's eyes sparkled.
Mirabel glanced at her son. "Charlie, are you sure you'll be okay alone?"
"I'll be fine," Charlie said confidently.
"Okay, love." She kissed his forehead before they left.
The car took them to the salon. They washed and dried their hair, sat under dryers while their nails were painted, laughed at silly jokes. When it was time to dye, Mirabel studied herself in the mirror.
The stylist finished with a flourish. "All done, ma'am."
Mirabel lowered her phone and tilted her head at her reflection. Her hair, long and sleek, shone in vibrant pink. Straightened, it gave her a sharp, commanding edge. She smirked. "The pink is on point. You straightened it perfectly — I look like a badass. I love it."
"Thank you, ma'am."
Beside her, Cherry beamed as she showed off her own newly straightened locks. "Look, Mum! I'm like you now!"
After massages and a bit of shopping, they returned home laden with bags.
Inside, Tracy was at the dining table, finishing a meal. Charlie must have cooked for her, Mirabel thought.
"Aunty Tracy!" Cherry squealed, dropping her bags to run into her arms.
"Cherry, sweetheart! Did you have fun with Mum today?"
"Yes! Look at my hair!"
Tracy's jaw dropped. "What?! You straightened your curls? But you looked so cute with them."
"I wanted to look like Mum," Cherry said proudly, pointing toward Mirabel, who was walking in with her own bags.
Tracy turned. For a second, she simply stared. Mirabel's pink hair gleamed under the light, her whole presence transformed.
"Wow, Mirabel…" Tracy whispered. "You look fearless. Badass."
"Thanks."
Tracy tilted her head. "But why not curl it? You'd have given off such a cute vibe."
Mirabel smirked faintly, brushing a strand of pink from her face. "Cute won't help me survive tomorrow. I need strong."
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