Chapter 77

• ELLE
• Paris was like stepping into a painting.
• Every corner of the city glittered with life—cobblestone streets glistening under morning light, flower boxes spilling color from iron balconies, the scent of butter and bread drifting from little cafés. My heart felt too big for my chest as I darted from shop window to shop window, fingers brushing against racks of silks and lace, my laughter spilling into the air like I was a child again.