The street outside was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that made every sound seem sharper. I could hear the soft shuffle of shoes from passersby and the low hum of a bus engine somewhere further down. Inside, the boutique felt still, as if the air itself had slowed. The light coming through the front window was pale and steady, falling across the racks in a way that made the colors seem richer.

The bell over the door had not rung for almost an hour. I sat at the worktable with a cup of ...