Marcus breaks the moment by tossing a dress across my lap, the fabric cool and silky against my skin. "Your turn, Cinderella! Let's see if we can find something that'll make Prince Charming finally wake up and smell the obvious."

Just then, Mia emerges from the dressing room in a gold dress that transforms her into something otherworldly. The fabric catches the light like captured sunshine, making her glow from within.

"Oh, honey!" Marcus's voice carries across the store. "That's it! That's the one!"

Camilla and I nod in enthusiastic agreement, watching Mia twirl with the kind of joy that makes you forget everything else for a moment.

The afternoon continues like this, a parade of fabric and friendship. Somehow it feels like I've known these people for years, not four weeks.

"So, what's the plan with Jake?" Camilla asks.

The question hits me like a splash of cold water. "What do you mean?"

Her smile turns knowing, though there's kindness in it. "Come on, Nora. Both of them are in love with you. You've noticed, right?"

"Jake?" The laugh that escapes me sounds hollow even to my own ears. "Jake's been my best friend since we were kids. He's practically my brother."

"Are you sure he knows that?"

The words settle in my chest like stones, forcing me to examine memories I've never questioned.

We move through several more stores, the afternoon taking on a dreamlike quality. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm surrounded by people who see me and accept every complicated piece without question. The feeling is so foreign it almost hurts. But because the universe has a twisted sense of humor, we walk into our final boutique only to find Farrah holding court with Shay and Harlow, all of them perched on display furniture like they own the place. The moment Farrah spots us, the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees.

"Great," Mia mutters, "way to kill the vibe."

Farrah's crew approaches like a pack of wolves, but Camilla—beautiful, fierce Camilla—straightens her spine and meets their gaze with the kind of confidence that can't be faked.

"I think you're in the wrong store," Farrah sneers, arms crossed. "The charity shop is two streets over."

Camilla's laugh is sharp and bright. "Oh, if I wanted a bargain, I'd just raid your closet." Her eyes sweep over Farrah's outfit with exaggerated precision.

The exchange escalates until Farrah crosses a line.

"You're just a charity case they keep around for diversity points."

Camilla doesn't flinch. Instead, she steps closer, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Let me ask you something, Barbie. Do you care about the environment?"

Farrah's perfect features scrunch in confusion. "What are you even talking about?"

"Somewhere out there, there's a tree working really hard to produce oxygen so you can breathe. I think you owe it an apology."