" Come, sit," she says gently. I shake my head. Lily frowns.

" You don't want me to help with your hair?" 

" The mirror, I don't like staring at my reflection," I tell her quietly. It takes a moment for her to process my words, and then her face falls to sadness. 

" Apphia, were you bullied because of your appearance?" she asks, gauging my reaction. It feels like a trick question; if I say yes, she'd know I remember my life and only ...