It was one of those sunny, breezy afternoons where the city felt alive — street performers on every corner, the smell of food carts floating in the air, and the steady rhythm of people moving around. Jake and Gaby were hand in hand, strolling through downtown with their fluffy dog Mochi trotting right alongside them, leash in Jake’s free hand.

Gaby suddenly slowed down in front of a small thrift store tucked between a bakery and a record shop. The windows were cluttered with everything from vintage jackets to old toys and a weird-looking lava lamp. Jake raised an eyebrow.

“Wait… why are we stopping here?” he asked, eyeing the bright pink sign that read “Thrift & Treasure”.

Gaby grinned and gave his arm a little tug. “Because it’s fun, babe. Thrift shops are like treasure hunts—plus, you never know what you’ll find.”

Mochi barked once, as if agreeing with her, and sat right by the door like he was ready to explore too.

Jake looked down at the dog. “Et tu, Mochi?”

Gaby laughed. “Don’t fight it, Jake. We’re going in.”

“Fine,” Jake said dramatically, holding the door open for her. “But if I find a pair of jeans from the 1800s, I’m blaming you.”

Inside, the place smelled like old wood and fabric softener. Gaby darted off to a rack of jackets while Jake wandered toward a wall of random gadgets. Mochi just flopped down on the floor like he owned the place.

“You know,” Jake said, holding up a cowboy hat that looked like it had survived five rodeos, “this might be my new look.”

Gaby peeked around the corner, holding a glittery jacket. “Only if I get to pick your boots.”