“I called him yesterday. Then I made my appointment for the haircut. This haircut you don’t like. Does that surprise you? Did you think you’d have to kick me out? All right.” She cleared her throat. “Maybe I’ll become a prostitute. Don’t worry. I’m not trying to make you feel sorry. You think I’m a prostitute anyway, so how could you feel sorry?” Her eyes were dull. This was one time he knew she would not burst into tears. “In fact you always thought of me as a prostitute,” Elena said, “but you don’t know what I think of you. You think I can’t live without you. Maybe I know better.”