Nora had only meant to browse for a few minutes, killing time before meeting a friend nearby, drawn in by the glittering window display she passed nearly every day but had never actually stepped inside to see up close. The moment she walked through the doors, she felt the shift in the room, the subtle but unmistakable tension of people deciding, almost instinctively, that she didn't belong. Staff members exchanged glances. A woman near the front counter clutched her handbag slightly tighter. Nora ignored it, as she always did, moving slowly past the glass cases, admiring the craftsmanship of pieces she'd never be able to afford, letting herself enjoy a few quiet minutes of simply looking. She didn't notice Margaret watching her from across the store, didn't notice the older woman's eyes narrowing with suspicion as she tracked Nora's path between the displays. Margaret had been a regular at this store for years, spending enough money over time that the staff greeted her by name and gave her free rein to browse without supervision. She'd developed, over those years, a particular kind of confidence — the assumption that her judgment was simply correct, that her instincts about people were rarely if ever wrong. When she noticed Nora lingering near the necklace display, her mind jumped immediately to the worst possible conclusion, filling in gaps with assumptions rather than facts. She didn't ask a clerk. She didn't consider that perhaps a girl in a hoodie was just as capable of appreciating fine jewelry as anyone else in the store. Instead, she began moving directly toward Nora with quick, purposeful steps, already certain of what she was about to find, already rehearsing the confrontation in her mind before a single word had been exchanged between them.