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prove it.”
    â€œHuh?” Slowly the feeling of awed incredulity was fading. It was beginning to seem almost normal to talk to this magical being.
    â€œLet’s prove it. Get some scissors.”
    â€œScissors?”
    Gillian stared at the angel. He stared back.
    â€œI don’t even know where any scissors are.”
    â€œDrawer to the left of the silverware drawer in the kitchen. A big sharp pair.” He grinned like Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother.
    Gillian wasn’t afraid. She didn’t decide not to be, she simply wasn’t.
    â€œOkay,” she said and went down to get the scissors. The angel went with her, floating just behind her shoulder. Atthe bottom of the stairs were two Abyssinian cats, curled up head to toe like the yin-yang symbol. They were fast asleep. Gillian nudged one gently with one toe, and it opened sleepy crescents of eyes.
    And then it was off like a flash—both cats were. Streaking down the side hall, falling over each other, skidding on the hardwood floor. Gillian watched with her mouth open.
    â€œBalaam’s ass,” the angel said wisely.
    â€œI
beg
your pardon?” For a moment Gillian thought she was being insulted.
    â€œI mean, animals can see us.”
    â€œBut they were
scared
. All their fur—I’ve never seen them like that before.”
    â€œWell, they may not understand what I am. It happens sometimes. Come on, let’s get the scissors.”
    Gillian stared down the side hall for a moment, then obeyed.
    â€œNow what?” she said as she brought the scissors back to her room.
    â€œGo in the bathroom.”
    Gillian went into the little bathroom that adjoined her bedroom and flicked on the light. She licked dry lips.
    â€œAnd now?” she said, trying to sound flippant. “Do I cut off a finger?”
    â€œNo. Just your hair.”
    In the mirror over the sink, Gillian saw her own jaw drop. She couldn’t see the angel, though, so she turned around.
    â€œCut my
hair
?
Off
?”
    â€œOff. You hide behind it too much. You have to show the world that you’re not hiding anymore.”
    â€œBut—” Gillian raised protective hands, looking back in the mirror. She saw herself, pale, delicate boned, with eyes like wood violets—peering out from a curtain of hair.
    So maybe he had a point. But to go into the world
naked
, without anything to duck behind, with her face exposed…
    â€œYou said you trusted me,” the angel said quietly.
    Gillian chanced a look at
him
. His face was stern and there was something in his eyes that almost scared her. Something unknowable and cold, as if he were withdrawing from her.
    â€œIt’s the way to prove yourself,” he said. “It’s like taking a vow. If you can do this part, you’re brave enough to do what it takes to get your heart’s desire.” He paused deliberately. “But, of course, if you’re not brave enough, if you want me to go away…”
    â€œNo,”
Gillian said. Most of what he was saying made sense, and as for what she didn’t understand—well, she would have to have faith.
    I can do this.
    To show that she was serious, she took the open scissors, bracketed the pale blond curtain at a level with her ear, and squeezed them shut. Her hair just folded around the scissors.
    â€œOkay.” The angel was laughing. “Hold onto the hair at the bottom and
pull
. And try less hair.”
    He sounded like himself again: warm and teasing andloving—helpful. Gillian let out her breath, gave a wobbly smile, and devoted herself to the horrible and fascinating business of cutting off long blond chunks.
    When she was done, she had a silky blond cap. Short. It was shorter than Amy’s hair, almost as short as J.Z. Oberlin’s hair, the girl at school who worked as a model and looked like a Calvin Klein ad. It was
really
short.
    â€œLook in the mirror,” the angel said,