I looked up. We were in a rather bare patch of Floor 5 where faux-marble walls gave way to a shop's black façade. Thick, bold white letters hung over the storefront. They said: SPECIALTY ITEMS, INC.

Tessa spun around on the balls of her feet. "Okay, umm . . . you might want to wait outside."

"What? Just stand out here like a goof while you try on more clothes?"

"The place doesn't sell clothes."

"Huh? Then what does it sell?"

"Umm . . . specialty items."

I looked up at the sign. "Specialty items?"

"Umm . . . yeah . . ."

"What kind of specialty items?"

"Well ....