THE NIGHT THE DESIGNER LEATHER BAGGED A WAR THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING FOR GOOD

Arthur stared at the empty bench, the color completely draining from his face as his eyes locked onto the lock of hair resting beside the shears. Without a word, he lunged across the floor, snatching up the hair and holding it up to the harsh overhead light as if hoping it was a cruel illusion.

"She’s gone," their mother breathed, her knees buckling slightly. Arthur caught her by the elbow before she hit the floor, pulling her against his side, though his own frame was trembling. "Arthur, someone took her. Someone was out there in the dark."

"No one broke in," Marcus said, jogging out from the back hallway, wiping grease from his hands onto a paper towel. He surveyed the empty shop, his face pale. "The back alley door is bolted from the inside with a deadbolt, and the front door was locked. Unless she unlocked it and walked out herself, she’s still inside this building."

Maya looked around the expansive boutique, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The racks of clothing cast long, distorted shadows across the floorboards. The corners of the shop were draped in heavy, velvet curtains that led to private storage alcoves and tailoring rooms.

"Mina!" Maya yelled, her voice echoing off the high tin ceiling. "Mina, stop hiding! This isn't funny!"

"Check the back storage rooms," Arthur commanded Marcus, his voice hard as iron, though his hands shook as he slipped the lock of dark hair into his pocket. "Every single one of them. Turn over every box, check behind every rack."

Marcus nodded grimly, disappearing down the narrow corridor behind the cash wrap.

Maya stood in her midnight-blue gown, the sparkling crystals feeling heavy and burdensome now, like a suit of armor she hadn't earned. She walked over to the velvet bench and picked up the silver shears. The metal was still warm, bearing the faint heat of Mina's hands.

"Mom," Maya said softly, turning to face her mother, who was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth. "Why would Mina leave her hair? She loved her hair more than anything. She spent hours brushing it every single night."

"I don't know," her mother sobbed quietly, leaning her head against Arthur’s shoulder. "Your sister… your sister has secrets, Maya. Things she found in the old boxes in the attic before we moved. I tried to throw them away, but she kept them."

"What secrets?" Maya pressed, stepping closer. "Mom, what are you and Dad hiding from us?"