The steady hum of Maya’s sewing machine echoed through the boutique, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional snip of her scissors. Her hands moved with practiced ease as she attached a row of delicate lace to the hem of a satin gown. Her focus was sharp, but her mind wandered—until her phone buzzed across the table.

She paused, wiped her hands on her apron, and picked it up.

Elias:

Are you at the boutique this afternoon? I need a favor.

Maya smiled faintly, typing a quick reply.

Maya:

Yes, I’m here. What do you need?

She didn’t have to wait long. Within minutes, the bell...