The lie tasted bitter before it even left my lips. I told the assistant I wanted to revisit a boutique, something about exchanging a dress that didn’t fit. My voice was steady, polite, but inside my stomach twisted so hard I thought I’d be sick. The staff didn’t question it, or maybe they did but didn’t dare voice it. They only nodded, efficient and silent, arranging the car as though escorting me on a harmless errand.

But every step down to the lobby, every shift of the city beneath ...