For some reason it made Natalie feel better to know that a woman like Karima dealt with the same chemicals—and pressure to pass—that she was enduring. Like they were part of a sisterhood.

“Now you sit,” Magda said and disappeared. Magda’s assistant rolled a massive heat lamp over to Natalie’s chair, saying, “It will open the cuticle,” as if that explained anything. Then she handed Natalie a dry hand towel and gestured to cover her mouth. “If you do not like to breathe with the chemicals.”

Even with the towel, her nose began to sting after a minute. Soon she was more than uncomfortable. On the scale of sad to happy faces they show you at the doctor, she’d have assessed her level of misery at “the one who looks ready to impale himself on a sickle.”

Don’t panic. Don’t overreact. Still breathing through a towel, she slowly texted her sister, Sarah, using one finger.

NATALIE: Can you die of a hair treatment? If it’s made with formaldehyde?

Sarah was a naturopath, and while she could be a little too naturo for Natalie’s taste—Natalie had an abiding faith in the power of prescription medication—she knew her stuff.

After what seemed like six eternities, Sarah replied.

SARAH: I feel like I want more details before I answer that question.

NATALIE: If something gave monkeys scalp cancer, would it also give a human scalp cancer?

SARAH: There is no such thing as scalp cancer.

NATALIE: Tell that to the internet. It thinks scalp cancer is totally a thing.

SARAH: On the other hand, if you are starting to talk about the internet like it’s your boyfriend, you do have a serious problem.

NATALIE: The internet would make an excellent boyfriend. Always available and fully versed on Top Ten Sex Tips.

SARAH: Although kind of into conspiracy theories and porn. And prone to spreading viruses.

NATALIE: Happiness crusher.

SARAH: Speaking of which, Mom asked me to tell you about the bridesmaids activity Saturday morning before the wedding.

NATALIE: Oh god. Don’t tell me. Is it organic douching? Group sensual massage?

SARAH: No. We’re having an apothecary blending party. Making custom scents to “amplify the energy of love,” I’m told.

NATALIE: As long as it doesn’t involve any bodily fluids.

SARAH: I can’t guarantee that. Anyway, the Gerald-in-Laws will be there and she wants to make a good impression.

NATALIE: Got it. Attendance mandatory. I’ll be there!

Natalie felt the dryer lift off her head and looked up to see Magda scrutinizing strands of her hair like a computer programmer scanning software for signs of malicious code.

“Are you tweeting?” Magda asked as she rubbed the hair through her fingers. “This is very good for you to do. It is like vitamins for the reports. Makes them strong. This is what everyone says.”