"It’s not just about the lift," the shop owner, a woman named Elena who had seen every curve of the human form, said softly. "It’s about the architecture of your own confidence."

As Clara fastened the hooks, she felt a strange, sudden shift in her posture. It wasn’t just that her back didn’t ache for the first time in an afternoon. It was the way the silk felt against her skin—unapologetic and elegant.

"I'll take it," Clara said, her voice steadier than it had been when she walked in. "Actually, I’ll take two."