Evie slammed down the curling iron and blinked back her tears, wanting to collapse in frustration.
She was going to be ugly forever.
The self-loathing welled up in her, suffocating her.
She breathed in and out, trying to calm herself before once again snatching the curling iron and attempted to wrap her hair around it properly.
But the iron caught her finger, painfully leaving a mark. She looked at it scrutinizingly but dismissed it.
There were more important things to worry about.