She said that if everything else in the world had to go to hell, at least she could keep this one thing the same. Her hair was a symbol, in a sense. A... long as she kept it perfect, nothing could harm them. Mike was content to let her have her way. If they only had access to a small amount of water, he would allow her to bathe and wash her hair, neglecting his own blond locks if he had to. He kept his hair short anyway. It was less hassle that way. ‘I hope they have beds,’ she said into his. The service had improved, and not a trace of ice had diluted the rich, amber liquid to a paler color or taste."Are you kidding? You do remember that first night here, don't you?" I reminded her, astonished that she could entertain any answer but the right one."I remember it, but I'm sure not the way you do. You really believed us, didn't you? That Michael's 'Stephan' had completely owned me - well, owned my body, at least. I regretted it for a long time after that night. I was just so angry at. More

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