She handed the feather to him. As Milo gripped it, the shop’s hum grew louder, resonating with his own heartbeat. In an instant, the room dissolved into a swirling tapestry of places—mountains he’d never climbed, a bustling market where his maps would be sold, a quiet cottage by a river where a woman with eyes like his own waited.
The glow intensified, and the box opened on its own, revealing a single, delicate feather—its barbs shimmering like spun silver. Scarlett stepped forward, plucking it from the box. scarlett shoplyfter
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice steadier. “I think I know where I’m going now.” She handed the feather to him