Once there's a neat bare curve around Harrow's ear and up nearly to the crown of her head, Gideon leans forward and presses a reverent kiss to the newly bare skin. This is different from, but somehow just as intimate as sex: it feels like the night in the lake, where they spoke secrets to each other and finally learned the truth. It's quiet in here, the only sounds those of soft breathing and the rasp of the razor blade against bristles.

If Gideon were the type to pray, now would be a good time to do so – but she isn't, so she worships the girl in front of her instead, with gentle touches and deft hands and care taken in each stroke of the razor blade over each slight bump of the skull under Harrow's scalp, down along to the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck.

Reaching the crown of Harrow's head, she gets up and switches sides, gently repositions Harrow's head with a hand at her chin, and sets to work on the other side.