Silent Strands

The hum of the salon’s hair dryers mixed with the soft clatter of scissors, creating a calming rhythm that Lucy had grown accustomed to over the years. She liked it that way—routine, predictable. But that afternoon, something was off. She could feel it in the tension radiating from the woman sitting in her chair.

Lucy had been styling Maya’s hair for months now. Maya was the kind of client every stylist dreamed of—easygoing, polite, and always tipped well. But today, she was different. Her normally relaxed posture was stiff, her fingers clutching her phone tightly on her lap. She wasn’t flipping through a magazine like she usually did, and her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes when she’d come in.

Lucy glanced at Maya’s reflection in the mirror as she snipped away at her long, chestnut hair. “Everything okay?” she asked casually, hoping to lighten the mood.

Maya hesitated, her eyes darting to the phone as if it held something dangerous. “Yeah,” she said after a moment, though her voice was too light, too forced. “Just a busy day.”

Lucy nodded, knowing better than to press. Sometimes people needed their hair appointments to be a quiet escape. So she continued her work in silence, trimming the ends and shaping the layers with practiced ease.

A few minutes later, Maya’s phone buzzed again, the vibration humming against her leg. She ignored it at first, but then it buzzed again. Reluctantly, she picked it up, her thumb swiping across the screen. Her face paled as she read the message, and Lucy watched as her grip on the phone tightened.

Maya looked around the salon nervously, as if making sure no one was too close. The other stylists were busy with their clients, and Lucy was the only one nearby. She thought she could get away with it.

But Lucy heard.

“I told you to stop texting me,” Maya whispered harshly into the phone, her voice barely audible over the ambient noise. “We agreed it was over. This is too risky.”

Lucy kept her eyes on Maya’s hair, pretending not to notice, but her heart began to race. Something about Maya’s tone, the fear laced into those few words, sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t just brushing off an ex or dealing with a clingy friend—this was different. Darker.

“I don’t care what you know,” Maya hissed into the phone, her voice cracking. “If you tell anyone, we’re both screwed. You promised to keep your mouth shut.”

Lucy’s hands froze for just a second before she forced herself to keep working. She couldn’t make it obvious that she was listening, but her mind was racing. What had she just stumbled into?

Maya ended the call quickly, her hand trembling as she shoved the phone back into her bag. Her eyes flickered to Lucy in the mirror, and for a moment, Lucy thought she might say something, might reveal what had her so on edge. But instead, Maya plastered on a strained smile and leaned back in the chair.

“Sorry about that,” she muttered. “Work stuff.”

Lucy smiled back, though her thoughts were a storm of questions. She had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, it sounded dangerous.

By the time she finished the cut and blow-dry, Maya had regained her composure, chatting lightly about her upcoming weekend plans as if nothing had happened. But the tension hadn’t left her eyes. She paid, left her usual generous tip, and walked out of the salon with a briskness that seemed almost frantic.

Lucy watched her go, her mind still buzzing with what she’d overheard. She didn’t know who was on the other end of that call, but the words echoed in her head: If you tell anyone, we’re both screwed.

Whatever secret Maya was hiding, it wasn’t small. And now, without meaning to, Lucy knew more than she should.

As the door swung shut behind Maya, Lucy’s stomach churned. She wished she hadn’t heard a thing.