This hair too fell from the head as easily as if it had been cut. No, it wasn't as if it had been cut – it had been. The lines at the end of the hair were too straight. The scalp that it had been drawn from was too covered for a head whose hair had just fallen off. There was still a patch of blonde there, mixed with blood, beneath the silver.
He brushed it all away, his eyebrow furrowed in dismay. Despite the pain that he likely caused her, he even gently pulled back Penelope's face from her body, so he could get a better look at me.
"Kill me…" a voice moaned. A man's voice.
It wasn't Penelope at all. Dressed in Penelope's clothes, and wearing Penelope's hair, it was a perversion that stood out even amongst the rest – but the fact remained, this man wasn't Penelope. The jaw was too broad, and the hair too, was different, when the silver chunks that had been stuck there were removed.
