Treachery

Episode7

Harper'sPOV

“Harper!”

London's voice rang out across the parking lot before I even shut my car door. I looked up to see her waving like a madman, oversized sunglasses perched on her head and a green juice in her hand like she was starring in some indie wellness vlog.

“You’re early?” I grinned, walking toward her. “What happened to making me wait twenty minutes so you could prove your point about ‘fashionably late’?”

“I evolved,” she said, offering me a dramatic curtsy. “New boyfriend, new punctuality. I’m a changed woman.”

“Please. You’re still the same girl who Facetimed me crying because her smoothie didn’t blend right.”

We both burst out laughing. That was London. Always over-the-top, always in her feelings—but she was mine. My constant.

“Alright,” she said, looping her arm through mine as we walked toward the store, “we’re getting you out of that ‘boring life’ aesthetic you’ve been clinging to. You need things that scream ‘single but not sad about it.’”

“Wow. Thank you. I feel so empowered.”

“I’m doing this for your own good,” she added, pushing the glass door open as we stepped into the boutique. It smelled like fresh linen and expensive cotton, and the kind of music that made you feel like you should be walking slower, swaying slightly, like you were in a perfume commercial.

We split off in different directions, each drifting toward our personal weaknesses. She was already digging into the two-piece section—cropped tops and high-waisted skirts—while I ran my hands over the soft linen blazers and plain dresses.

“This is cute,” I said, holding up a sage-green wrap dress that looked forgiving in all the right places.

London peered over a rack of jeans. “It’s giving librarian. But like, hot librarian. Which I respect.”

I smirked. “You want me to dress like you’re taking me to a club, and I don’t even drink.”

“That’s the point. You don’t need to drink, you just need to look like you could ruin someone’s life with a single look. That’s the energy we’re going for.”

An hour passed like five minutes. We tried on dresses, took mirror selfies, swapped outfits halfway through, and laughed way too loud when she tripped over a display. I ended up getting two dresses, a pair of jeans, and a blouse I knew I probably wouldn’t wear but bought anyway because she said it made my collar

bone look “insultingly good.”