My mother always brushed her hair with her brush in her left hand. I always tried telling her how her reflection didn’t always look away when she did, but she never believed me. I really, really wished she had, especially when one day I noticed her brushing her hair with her hairbrush in her right hand. When she turned away, her reflection turned horror-stricken and mouthed at me, “Sweetheart, help me.”

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Much love,

A. Rose