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Maya hovered. At eighty dollars, it was three times what she usually spent. She looked at her reflection in the dark window—tired eyes, messy bun. She thought about the garden party her sister was throwing next month, a world of sun-drenched grass and slow conversations. Add to cart.

Four days later, a slim cardboard box sat at her door. Inside, wrapped in recycled tissue paper and tied with a sprig of dried lavender, was the skirt. It was heavier than she expected, the linen cool and substantial. She stepped into it, the hidden side zipper

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