20
" Hair tickled her neck in a way it hadn’t done since she was six—the first time she’d taken a pair of scissors to her hair, to eliminate the need for the ridiculous ribbons Maman had insisted on tying in it. That day, she’d learned what happened when she crossed one of Sophie De Wilde’s invisible lines, and she hadn’t been able to sit at her desk chair without pain for hours. But Maman wasn’t here to see. To judge. To punish. Or to decide that it wasn’t deserving of punishment. She had never drawn the lines in the same place twice. The second time Margot had cut her own hair, at age ten, it had simply been because it was annoying her, not in rebellion. Maman hadn’t punished her that time, and it wasn’t because she’d left it longer—below her shoulders, no ends tickling her neck. It had been because it hadn’t been meant to hurt anyone. “It is the heart that matters,” Maman had said as she evened out the edges that second time. “The motivation. "
― Roseanna M. White , The Number of Love (The Codebreakers, #1)