She’d been walking for over thirty minutes.

Not panicking—yet—but the mall was big, loud, and her rich family had disappeared somewhere between the luxury perfume aisle and a giant aquarium.

That’s when he spoke.

“Let me guess,” a smooth, accented voice said behind her, “You either lost your family… or you just discovered Chanel and ditched them on purpose.”

She turned.

He was older—maybe 19. Tall. Effortlessly sharp. White button-down, sleeves rolled, gold watch, slight smirk. Like he knew exactly how pretty he was.

“No judgment,” he added, sipping something expensive. “If I had siblings, I’d get ‘lost’ too.”

Then, with a small grin: “Do you speak English or—“