Tiffany, with a bit of a bounce in her step, felt a pinch more happiness and purpose as she practically skipped to the local boutique to prepare for the evening.

  Her apartment wasn’t far from the antique district, and she’d had her eye on something displayed in one of the windows. Happily enjoying her morning, she passed Nailor’s Hardware and a few other shops until she reached the boutique she was looking for: *The Little Blue Dress (from formal to not-so-formal).*

  It was still a few minutes until the store opened, so she perused the shop windows, admiring the displays. The mannequins sported a variety of outfits, from jeans and T-shirts to formal evening wear, and what she could only guess was trendy youth attire.

  Then her eyes landed on the reason she had picked this shop (not that she had many choices in the area).

  A pair of just-below-the-knee high leather boots with three-inch thick soles made them look like extreme stilettos. The round tips of the boots' toe area were adorned with stainless steel caps studded into the soles, a shiny stainless zipper on the inside for ease of putting on and taking off, and several adjustment buckles and straps in the same stainless steel color.

  The ringing of a small bell pulled her from her thoughts, catching her attention as the shopkeeper opened up for the day.

  "Excuse me, is it okay to come in yet, or do you need a few minutes?" Tiff asked the shopkeeper.

  "It's fine, hun, come in and browse if you want. I just need a few minutes to set up the register if you need to pay with a card, though."

  "That's fine; I need to pick out a couple of things anyway," she said, browsing through the dresses. She skimmed from rack to rack, seeing if anything caught her eye, lingering a bit by the evening gowns and prom dresses. She picked out an elegant burgundy evening gown that seemed to jump out at her, holding it in front of her to get an idea of how it would look without putting it on. She turned to the mirror on the store wall, tilting her head slightly to the side as she held the dress up against her body, imagining herself wearing it. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and a small smile played on her lips as she twirled slightly with the garment.

  "Are the items in the windows for sale also?" she asked the shopkeeper.

  "Yes, dear, all items are for sale except the racks and mannequins." The shopkeeper finished setting up the register and hurried over to Tiff to assist her in any way she needed.

  "Was there anything in particular you were needing or looking for?" she asked, looking down at the young woman.

  "Well, I'd like to try this dress on first, please." She held it up, showing it to the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper nodded and escorted her to the dressing room, opening the door and holding it while Tiff walked in.

  "Just holler if you need me or have any questions, hun."

  Tiff smiled at the woman, thanked her, and began slipping out of her street clothes and into the dress. She admired herself in the mirror, the sleek material sending a shiver down her spine as it caressed her bare skin and gave her goosebumps. The top loosely cupped her moderate breasts, which made her frown slightly as she looked down at the loose-fitting fabric.

  "Well, fudruckles, I was hoping this would fit—it’s the only one on the rack in the color I like," she muttered, then paused as an idea sparked in her mind. "Wait, I can make this work."

  Closing her eyes, she focused intently. Slowly, her chest began to swell, the fabric filling out as her breasts expanded to better suit the dress. The transformation was subtle at first, but she ended up going slightly overboard, the cups now snugly hugging her newly enhanced breasts.

  She blinked as she glanced down at herself, cupping her enhanced chest experimentally. The dress still offered enough support that she wouldn’t need a bra—much to her relief.

  Satisfied, she examined the rest of the dress. The fabric contoured perfectly to every curve and muscle, its sleekness accentuating her athletic build. The design split daringly at the side of one hip, opening the rest of the way down, giving her freedom of movement. To test its flexibility, she bent over backward, pressing the palms of her hands and feet to the floor, before springing upright again. She flexed and twisted, ensuring the material wouldn’t restrict her movements in any way.

  "Excuse me, miss? Could I get your opinion on something?"

  "Yes, dear, what is it?" The shopkeeper placed a dress back on the rack and headed to the changing room. Tiff heard her outside the door and slowly opened it, stepping outside.

  The shopkeeper's mouth dropped open for a brief moment as she temporarily had a lapse in professionalism. *Well, she certainly fills out a dress! Where was she even hiding those things?!?* Tiff felt a little bit better about herself, wryly smiling on the inside at catching the shopkeeper’s momentary shock.

  "So how does it look? I'm not really used to these outfits," she said with her head tilted down and her hand absently rubbing her forearm.

  "Honey, I don't know what the occasion is, but you're gonna knock 'em dead in that! The burgundy really highlights your hair and goes really well with your skin color." Tiffany flushed red at this, but at the same time, it made her feel genuinely happy.

  Normally, she was always alone with the exception of Jarvis or, on the rare chance, Franzé. She was never really allowed the luxury to be feminine or allotted time for friends, as she was always constantly working and behind enemy lines. It was nice to be able to feel attractive instead of what she was usually called: *The bruiser tank*or sometimes just "Tank" for short by some wherever she was stationed. Being a rare breed of a species that was practically extinct didn't help much either. So, for what felt like the first time in her short life, she felt attractive and approachable.

  "Thank you so much, ma'am!" she said, giving the shopkeeper a cheesy grin with an excited gleam in her bright, emerald green eyes, before excitedly ducking back into the changing room. Shortly after, she emerged fully dressed with her new attire in hand. She meandered about the shop some more before meeting the nice shopkeeper at the register.

  "Okay, darlin', is that all, or did you need more time?" the shopkeeper asked with a smile. Tiff paused for a moment, observing the small triangular wood plaque with brass inlay in front of the shopkeeper's register reading "Proudly owned and managed by: Doris Hopper."

  "Are you the store owner?" Tiff asked curiously.

  "Yes, ma'am, I've been serving this fine town since 1985," she replied, beaming with pride.

  "Actually, Miss Hopper..."

  "Doris is fine, hun. Just 'cause we sell formal wear doesn't mean we have to be formal," she said, giving Tiffany a wink.

  "I was curious about the boots in the shop windows," she slowly answered, setting the burgundy dress on the counter. The request slightly made Doris's cheery smile falter to a somewhat grim expression.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Like I said earlier, not to sound rude, but everything in the windows except the mannequins and racks are for sale..." Doris trailed off saying this.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

  "No! It's okay, don't mind me. It's just that I wasn't expecting anyone to ask about....them."

  "It's just, my friend had a daughter not much younger than you. I think the two of you might've hit it off well. You remind me so much of her from your personality and fashion taste," Doris said, gesturing to Tiff's current outfit.

  Doris walked around the counter towards the front window, gingerly picking up the boots with care, and bringing them back to the register, setting them on the counter.

  "Here kid, try 'em on."

  Tiffany took the boots back to the chair in front of the mirror on the shop wall, kicking her sneakers off to the side. She unzipped the sides, slid her dainty feet into them, and zipped the sides back up while admiring the workmanship of the leather and metal. She was more than happy with how they fit. She stood and did a sort of happy dance that looked like a one-legged hop, alternating her legs, trying out the boots, and topped off with a short twirl, almost forgetting the grim change in Dorris, making a small smile creep across the shop keepers face.

  She swapped back to her sneakers, bringing the boots back to Doris who somewhat looked happier seeing the young girl excited about the footwear.

  "So, what do you think? Do you like them?" The shop keeper asked in a chirpy tone.

  "Oh, yes, miss! I very much do!" Her excitement faltered, looking at them, then at Dorris.

  "You mentioned a girl like me. Why'd you bring her up? Did something happen to her?"

  Dorris's brief smile faltered at the question as she remembered her friend's daughter who had disappeared shortly after placing the order. The question unearthed painful memories she'd long tried to keep buried—until now.

  "She special ordered those boots. I usually don't do custom orders, but she was a friend of the family that I've known for years, so I saw no harm in it. She put a deposit on them and..."

  "So what happened? Did she change her mind?"

  "No, not long after she placed the order, she disappeared. The cops and the whole city looked for her, but it's as if she vanished," Doris said with a misty-eyed expression.

  "When they came in, I put them in the window, somewhat expecting her to come back.

  Every time I walk by my shop, they just remind me of another young face I won't see again."

  Tiff was in a mix of anger and sadness at the woman's story, but knowing exactly what happened to the girl only fueled her anger that much more.

  *Those assholes are going to pay for every soul that they've abducted,* Tiffany thought to herself in a flurry of emotions, her hands by her side in balled-up fists, digging her nails into her palm until they started to draw blood.

  "Hun? You okay?" Doris just seemed to notice that Tiff's mind was elsewhere, not seeing her hands over the counter.

  "Um, yes, Miss Doris, sorry, your story reminded me of someone that was dear to me also," it was kind of a lie. Franzé was still alive as far as she knew but was affected by the same people as the rest of the townsfolk, even if they didn't know it yet.

  "I'm really sorry about your friend's daughter," she told Doris with a deep sympathetic tone. "Maybe she'll turn up and be back with you soon?"

  "I don't wanna get my hopes up. The cops said if you don't find someone within forty-eight hours, chances are slim at best. But thank you, and thank you for listening. Like you said, I hope that she is found." Dorris was trying to pull herself back together, wiping the tears from her face with a long sleeve. She collected herself, looking at the items on the counter, "Once again, I'm sorry about unloading on you, miss... I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

  "Oh! I'm Tiffany Raforus! Nice to meet you. Sorry, I guess I need to polish up on my introductions." She held out a scratch-free hand that had already stopped bleeding and healed, and Dorris reciprocated the exchange.

  "Well, now that I'm not a blubbering mess, is there anything else you may need that I can help you with?"

  "I definitely want the dress, but I'm not so sure about the boots now..." Tiffany trailed off, not sure about asking for the boots after the whole situation seemed to upset Miss Dorris.

  Dorris, rubbing her eyes one more time, said, "Oh? I thought you wanted the boots also? They looked good on you."

  "I do, but I feel like it'd be wrong to take them."

  "You really are a sweetheart," Dorris said, looking down at Tiff with a warm, heartfelt smile. "Look, I'll make you a deal. Since they're already partially paid for, I'll sell them to you for half price. It's not like I have anyone else wanting to buy them, and they're wasted sitting in the window. Besides, if she comes back, I'll re-commission the order."

  Tiffany and Dorris made small talk for a few minutes while paying, and Miss Dorris boxed up the boots and dress. After boxing them up, she bagged them in a nice brown paper bag with handles and a little blue dress design painted on the bag.

  Tiff took the bag to leave but stopped short with her hand on the shop door handle.

  "Miss Dorris?"

  "Yeah, hun, forget something, dear?"

  "No, thanks for everything, I really appreciate it. You wouldn't happen to have a picture of the girl, would you?" Dorris's face slightly dropped for a moment before she nodded and ducked under the counter, then came right back up with a rumpled, folded flyer in hand. Walking around the counter, she handed it to Tiffany.

  Tiff opened the flyer with an address, phone number, and "missing" printed above the girl's photo. The girl did look like a really skinny version of Tiff, with black hair highlighted blue, an identical skateboard brand t-shirt, and baggy Trippy pants. Underneath the photo was the girl's name, Jessica Taylor. Carefully folding the flyer, she put it in her back pocket.

  "I'm helping someone who's already looking into it. I don't want to get your hopes up, but I think they have a lead." Dorris perked up at hearing this and then switched to surprise.

  "But you're so young! Who are you helping?" Tiff stifled a laugh with a hand to her mouth.

  "I'm not that young, just somewhat new too my job, but I do know someone who's looking into it; that's really all I can say on that." She set her bag down at the door and gave Dorris a hug, then stepped back and picked up her bag.

  "I think how you'd put it is I'm not blowing smoke up your backside," she said with a wave and a smile while walking out with her bag.

  "Please find her, kid, and be careful," Dorris thought to herself, watching the short kid practically skipping down the sidewalk at an almost running speed.

  "Odd kid, that Tiffany, but she sure is a sweetheart."

  Tiffany with treasured bag in hand hurries home to show off to jarvis and get ready and prep for the evening.