— You didn’t even try to understand me, — she continued. — It was easier for you to laugh than to be kind. I didn’t just want a haircut. Today is my son’s wedding day. I haven’t had my hair cut or done in ten years… since the day I buried my husband. Today, I wanted to look beautiful — for him. For both of us.

The silence became almost tangible. None of the women could lift their eyes.

— I hope, — she said sadly, — that when you grow older, someone will remind you of this day. And then you’ll understand how painful words can be.

She was about to leave but turned back:

— Oh, I almost forgot. The owner of this salon is an old friend of mine. I think she’ll be very interested to hear what wonderful employees she has.

She smiled — calm, proud — and walked out, leaving behind only the scent of her perfume and a heavy silence.