She wasn't sure whether to be surprised or frustrated with his answer. It was so rare that he gave her a straight one, and while this wasn't exactly informative, she sensed it was actually the truth. Her fingers twitched against his chest, her hand still caught in his and she didn't draw away.` His skin was cool beneath her hand, but she could feel the speeded flutter of his pulse in his chest.

"It could have gone very badly," she pointed out, her voice still calm, reasoning things out logically. She had to. She didn't want to think about how it could have gone wrong because she feared she would start to hyperventilate, and really, one emotional fit in a day was more than enough. "It still might. My father... He still will not accept this easily."

But there was a determination in her voice now that hadn't been there earlier in the day. A resolve. Somehow the shedding of those long blond locks had somehow shed the urge to meld into her father's expectations along with them. As if looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger had somehow finally showed her how to be that stranger. She couldn't put it into words, couldn't explain the calmness that had descended over her in that moment. As if something were finally right.

She feared that if she tried to put it into words, he would think her crazy.