Five hundred forty-nine

d her face, a mere palm-sized visage, yet streaming with tears. She looked at herself in the mirror, pale and haggard, with disheveled black hair and tear-stained cheeks, as if abandoned or deeply wro...down, sprawling. She scrambled forward, hunching over, and lunged toward the floor, determined to grasp the fallen scissors. Finally, she was forcefully pulled upright by a large hand, her waist held...