Freya.

We were still heading deeper inside, our heads turning left and right as we scanned the breathtaking environment, when a lady approached us with a polite bow.

She wore a crisp, elegant uniform — a tailored cream blouse with the mall’s golden emblem embroidered on the collar, paired with a sleek black pencil skirt and low heels. Her hair was neatly tied in a low bun, and she carried herself with quiet professionalism.

“Hello, ma’am. Hello, miss. Welcome to Velmont Galleria. I’m June, a sales attendant at this mall. What would you like to buy today? I’m ready to help you shop smoothly.”

Zoey and I stared at each...