The sunlight poured through the penthouse windows in warm gold, catching dust motes that spun lazily in the air.

Chloe stretched on the couch, her phone balanced on her stomach, while Zoe sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by a chaotic pile of clothes. Melinda leaned against the armchair, sipping coffee from a giant mug, watching Zoe with mild amusement.

"Okay, hear me out," Zoe said, holding up a black lace dress that looked like it belonged more at a gothic funeral than a theme park. ...