The woman who let me in here is named Harper Sasaki. When I entered the survivors' encampment, my clothing ragged, carrying a backpack filled with dirty old clothes and breathing hard enough that I felt glad I was not wearing a binder at the time, Harper was the one who brought me into the apartment building she had once rented out.
(The landlord, a man named Abraham Fielding, had lost his humanity quickly after the Forest began to grow. She protected herself when he tried to kill her. After she was done cleaning the blood from her knife, the apartment complex was essentially up for grabs.)
She has an undercut. It looks better than Samuel's hair. When I asked her about it earlier today, she told me she had cut Samuel's hair and Samuel had cut hers. She laughed, saying he was clearly better suited to being a barber than she was. Something in her eyes when she smiled made me wish I could stay here.
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