She slipped her thin hair through the band, contorting it until no hair hung against her neck. From the corner of the room her mother watched, tight lipped and arms folded, judging each movement her child made.
“Where are you going for dinner?” Her mother’s tone was accusing, as if going out to eat, or just eating, was a crime.
“Somewhere I can get a salad,” She shot back and tightened her core. Her face held the same tight look, making it obvious that they were blood, but her’s looked more like strength than defeat. Her mother nodded, well aware her daughter contained the power she once had.
“Good. Don’t get dessert either.”
“I would never.”
Outside, music blared loud enough to end the conversation inside. She had been listening for it since her mother entered and took her cue.
“I’ll be back later; after I’ve burned enough calories.”