The boutique was silent for a beat after the men in dark suits left with Mya, the air heavy as if the walls themselves were trying to make sense of what had just happened. The bell on the door stopped chiming, the perfume in the air settled back over the silk and satin, and for a moment, no one knew what to say.
Then Caroline broke the silence with a sharp laugh. “Did anyone else see that? Four men in suits swooping in like they’d walked off a movie set. ‘We’re looking for Mya Smith’—oh, please.” She rolled her eyes dramatically and turned toward her mother and Sloane. “You’d think she was some kind of heiress.”
Lorraine’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Hardly. If they’re looking for her, it’s for all the wrong reasons. Mark my words, it has to be scandal.”
Sloane adjusted her ring, le
