Mafia Games A

The atmosphere was dense with white mist outside, making it hard to see. The day had started so cool and peacefully, failing to foreshadow how it might cruelly forsake one person in a few hours.

Saturating the tips of her fingers with a transparent gel, Imelda secured Isadora's long, silky dark hair into a tight ponytail. The tail falls to her back.

"Make it shorter," Isadora whispers, staring at the scissors on the vanity.

"Why?" Imelda hesitates, "Your hair is too beautiful to be treated that way."

"I don't want it to get in the way, Madam Imelda. Please…" Isadora's voice is frigid.

Imelda exhales a warm breath, "Not every choice has to be extreme, Isadora. There is always a better alternative."

She opens a drawer and sources out a threaded needle. Carefully she twists and warps Isadora's hair around a point and sews it multiple times securing it in place.

Imelda picks up a pure white fox mask from the side of the table and places it over Isadora's face. With the mask on, it