"Welcome back," Garofano called out, her voice gentle as you entered her tailor shop. Her burgundy eyes met yours, and a faint smile graced her lips, polite yet distant.

You held up the coat in your hands, a torn seam running along one of the sleeves betraying your clumsy attempt at fixing it yourself.

Garofano carefully examined the piece of clothing, letting out a soft hum. "It's always better to leave things like this to a professional," she teased lightly, a spark of amusement breaking through her composed demeanour. "Allow me to repair it right now."

And so, she immediately started to work.

As she threaded her needle, you found yourself studying her face. The woman was kind, gentle even, but there was a weight behind her gaze hinting at something hidden, something darker.

"You have been coming here quite often lately," Garofano remarked with a subtle smile, her voice effortlessly breaking through your thoughts. "Is it really just for my stitching, or is there something else keeping you tethered to this shop?"