The taxi pulls up to a*****e so fancy I immediately want to cringe and clutch my purse. The windows gleam, the logo screams brand-name, and just standing outside makes me feel underdressed.
“Why are we here?” I whisper into Serena’s ear the second we step inside. A long line of high-fashion clothes greets us, sleek dresses and sculpted jackets draped on racks like artwork. Even the air feels expensive, like it charges you per breath.
“Come on, Claire, live a little.” She grins like I’m being overdramatic, already deeper into the store, her fingers grazing the fabric like she belongs here. She lifts a dress off the rack. “Look at this. It would go so well with your hair.”
I catch a glimpse of the tag and do a double take. $1,200? That’s my flight fee, and then some.
“No.” I take the dre
