—So that means you ain’t buying me my jacket?

—You kids son mal agradecidos. All you say is, Mami can I have this? And why don’t you get me that? You act like money grows on trees.

—You promised.

—You promised to go to school.

—I do go to school, Dallas said and got up to walk away from her.

—I’m not finished with you.

Dallas kept walking. Forget her. She didn’t need her help anyway. She was going to get a job and move the hell out.

—Dallas, come back right now, Esperanza said, standing at the table. How could she turn her back on me? If she allowed Dallas to do what she pleased, Esperanza would lose her. Like all the other girls she saw getting pregnant, messing up their lives. She couldn’t watch her twenty-four hours a day. And now she wasn’t going to school. How long had this been happening? She had found the note in Don Chan’s things. How long had he been hiding this from her? Was everyone working against her?

Esperanza went to Dallas’s room, scissors in hand. After she had gone through thirteen hours of labor she had a brat who treated her like nothing—I’m your mother! Esperanza grabbed Dallas’s chin and Dallas rolled her eyes to the side. Her mascara was running.

Dallas no longer cared what her mother thought. Caring about what other people thought was a trap. Dallas gnawed at the inside of her cheek softly. Tapped her foot waiting for Esperanza to leave her alone.

—Look at me.

—Leave me alone!

Esperanza grabbed a chunk of Dallas’s hair from the crown of her head and chopped it from the root. She took the strand of hair and balled it up in her fist, putting it up to Dallas’s face.

—I made you and I can destroy you if I feel like it, even if it means I have to go to prison my entire life. You won’t disrespect me again. Are you listening to me now?

Esperanza grabbed the hair left on Dallas’s head and curled it with her fist. —Don’t try me, Dallas. I’m tired of your shit. If I find out you miss school one more time, I will shave your head bald.

Dallas wanted to get up and look in the mirror but was afraid to move. Her mother was holding on to the scissors, the same ones she used for sewing, the sacred scissors that were not to be used on anything else because it would blunt them and then butcher fabric.

—You’re crazy, Dallas whispered to her. —That’s my hair.

—I’ll show you crazy, she said. —Keep it up and you’ll see how crazy I am.

Dallas waited for Esperanza to leave the apartment to look at the damage. Ever since she could remember, Dallas had had long hair. To grow it all again would take a decade. Her mother had lost her mind. She was grateful that she hadn’t cut a wad of hair on the sides. Dallas would’ve been forced to cut it all off. Now Dallas had a one-inch chunk of hair on the crown of her head. In a ponytail, the damage was unnoticeable. She would have to wear scarves, and braids, to cover it up for the next ten years. —Bitch, Dallas whispered.