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breathless. He handed Adam a small black case, which Adam laid on his lap. Twig noticed Adam rub his bad leg. Everyone looked on. It seemed as if the whole room was holding its breath.
    Adam snapped the case open and removed a large, gleaming pair of scissors. Twig gasped.
    Adam looked at Avery. He studied her, and then he turned and picked Twig out of the crowd. He pointed the scissors at her. “Cut it all off. Every strand. And as your mother’s hair falls to the ground around her, so may her poisonous ideas, as well as her insolence and her attitude and most importantly, her misguided notion that she knows what’s best for you.”
    Avery had gorgeous hair. Blond and thick and impossibly long. For as long as Twig could remember, Avery had asked Twig to braid it or put flowers in it, twist it up, create some pretty style. Brush it before they went to bed. Trivial as it might seem, this ritual between them meant everything to Twig.
    “Twig.” Avery didn’t miss a beat. “It’s okay, Twig.” Avery grabbed onto Twig’s hand, and Twig could feel her trembling. She wanted to scream. She had no choice. It never got easier watching her mother get punished, and now by her own hand.
    Physical punishment purifies the soul. Used sparingly and responsibly, physical consequence bleaches out old patterns of behavior .
    Twig knew this, but she had never had to administer any sort of punishment, let alone to her own mother.
    Adam held out the scissors to Twig. She took them obediently and stood over her mother, filled with dread. She wanted to put her lips on top of Avery’s flaxen head, whisper in her ear how much she loved her, but she couldn’t. Her only loyalty was meant to be to Adam, but at this moment she felt torn. Maybe this was the lesson that would finally make Avery learn to be agreeable and obey. The path to harmony. Still, Twig wished there were another way. And sometimes, though she’d never revealed this sinful thought, Twig wondered if Avery couldn’t control herself at all. Like she wasn’t the one in control of her moods or actions. Maybe.
    “It’s better if it is you, Twig. It really is.”
    “Avery, not another word,” Adam scolded.
    Twig cried quietly as she lifted a piece of Avery’s hair with tenderness. She winced at the sound the blades made as they severed Avery’s hair from her head. She wished she could mute the sawing and snapping sounds.
    The Family sat unusually silent around the spectacle. When she had finished, Twig set the scissors down on the ground.
    “Now shave her.” Adam stood holding a razor.
    Twig was going to throw up. She gathered her dress and began to run from the forest toward the compound.
    “Twig!” Adam ran after her.
    Twig ran faster, but Adam was athletic and quickly overcame her. He took her into his arms. Twig sobbed and beat at his chest. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing! She can’t help it. Why do you keep punishing her?” She was out of control. She knew she would be punished for talking to Adam this way, but she couldn’t help herself.
    “Shh. Shh.” Adam tried to comfort her. He stroked her hair and held her closer. “It’s okay. Calm down, darling.”
    Twig took a deep breath, her sobs beginning to subside within the tightness of his embrace. She cried quietly into his chest. “Maybe she’s sick? Maybe she has a virus from before? From before she came here.”
    “It’s okay,” he cooed. “It’s going to be okay. It’s for her own good. You’ll see. Imagine the peace she’ll have when she learns. She’ll find her joy again, and we will celebrate when she does. We will honor the beautiful woman she is.”
    Twig wanted to hate him in that moment, but his words soothed her. She felt herself calming despite trying to hold on to her rage. It seeped away from her.
    “Better?” he asked.
    Twig looked up at Adam. His black eyes glimmered as he took her in.
    “You’ve gotten so beautiful,” he murmured.
    Twig looked down, embarrassed.