Blair stood still, one hand clutching a half-folded gown, the other frozen mid-gesture. The air in the boutique suddenly felt heavier, like someone had turned down the volume of the world just for her.
She stared at the door where the two women had just exited.
Not at both of them. Just one.
That silver-gray hair—long, shimmering like frost under sunlight. It caught the light in a way that tugged at something deep inside her mind, some shadow of memory she couldn’t quite bring into focus.
“Did you see her?” she asked, quieter now. Her voice lost the sharpness it carried earlier, replaced with something unsure.
Grayson looked over from where he stood beside the window. “Who?”
“The girl,” Blair said slowly, “with the silver hair.”
He frowned. “You mean the one with the girl you’ve bee
