Rain pulled his lavender hooded sweater over his head and checked his reflection in the mirror that was propped up against his bedroom wall. He tried combing his rebellious blond hair back, stared at himself, and narrowed his eyes. “Pink,” he said, leaning closer to his reflection. “And purple.” It was decided: tomorrow, he’d bleach the ends of his hair and then dye the tips pink and purple. Milo had always forbidden him to change the color of his hair. He’d even thrown a tantrum after Rain had lightened his blond hair with lemon juice during one summer.
“Pink and purple it is.” Rain smiled at himself and then looked down the hall. Where were the boys? He’d slept all afternoon, but it was getting dark outside and he was hungry like a wolf. As he set off for the entrance, his phone buzzed
