The boutique was not what I expected.
Not loud. Not the kind of place that announces what things cost. Everything whispered. Cream walls, warm light, pale wood floors that absorbed sound, tall mirrors in brushed gold. The air smelled faintly of silk and something floral. Time moved differently here.
My mother stopped just inside the entrance with her hands clasped at her waist. She had dressed carefully today. Hair smoothed, coat pressed, shoes polished. Still, she stood the way she always stood in unfamiliar rooms, taking up as little space as possible, waiting to see if she was allowed to stay. I had seen that posture my whole life.
Evelyn stepped forward without hesitation and reached back and took my mother's hand.
"Isn't it lovely," she murmured.
My mother looked at her, then at
