She cries a little when daddy decides to shave off her badly-cut hair.
The next day, she steps into the kindergarten in trepidation. Her head is completely covered by a cloche hat. She intends to keep it that way.
But the weather doesn’t listen. The sun continues to radiate like molten gold. It soon becomes unbearable.
She takes off the hat and clenches it in her little fists. Her eyes meet his.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, slack-jawed.
She smiles a little.