Chapter 1

Every morning, I spray an eighteen-hundred-dollar perfume onto my wrist.

The bottle doesn’t belong to me. It’s the counter tester, free for customers to sample.

Psst.

Jasmine and warm oud wood. Pressing my wrist to my nose, I breathe it in for a long beat.

My name is Bia. I work as a beauty advisor, or BA for short, at a luxury fragrance counter on the ground floor of Skenia Mall, the most exclusive shopping center in Arcadia City. My job is to sell scent and smile.

09:45. Fifteen minutes until the doors open.

One by one, the atrium chandeliers blaze to life. White marble gleams all the way to the far wing. Escalators hum without passengers. The display windows of Gucci, Cartier, and Louis Vuitton still hang behind sheer curtains. A restroom attendant pushes a wheeled mop bucket past our counter with his head lowered.

Behind the glass counter, I line up the crystal bottles so every label faces forward. My black uniform is pressed smooth, my hair is tied back, and my lipstick is the exact shade of pink required by counter rules.

In the counter mirror, I practice the smile. Slightly wider. Just a hint of teeth.

There.

10:00. The main glass doors chime open. Ding.

A young couple walks in first. A guy in a crisp blue shirt and a girl in a white dress with long loose hair, their fingers laced together.

The guy looks straight at me.

“Excuse me, Miss, which one smells the best?”

My eyes flick to his girlfriend.

“Is it for her?”

He nods without taking his eyes off her face.

Reaching into the display case, I lift out the rose bottle priced at seven hundred and sixty dollars and turn my practiced smile toward the girl.

“May I have your wrist, Miss?”

She holds out a slender wrist adorned with a thin gold bracelet.

Psst.

Pulling her wrist up to his nose, her boyfriend inhales and presses his lips right against her skin, right in front of me, for a long moment.

The girl giggles, her cheeks flushing pink.

On the glass counter, I straighten a stack of paper blotter strips that is already straight.

The guy holds up two fingers toward me.

“We’ll take it, Miss. Two bottles.”

Wrapping two boxes in gold ribbon with a blank gift card, my hands move fast from months of habit.

“Thank you very much. I hope she loves it.”

Still holding hands, they ride the escalator up to the second floor with her head resting on his shoulder. My gaze follows them until they disappear.

On the opposite escalator, an older man in a dark tailored suit rides up to the upper level with two young aides standing half a step behind him. Shoppers step aside to clear his path. Halfway up, he glances toward our perfume counter for a single second.

Sliding open the small drawer beneath the register, I look down at my phone with the hairline crack across the top left corner. Out of habit, my thumb traces the cracked glass.

One contact sits pinned at the top of my screen. Adam. Saved in my phone under Honey.

My boyfriend. He drives a contractor dump truck at the gold mines on Auria Island, far across the sea. Auria is my home island too.

His pay is small once the contracting company deducts his barrack bunk and canteen meals. Out at the mine, cell reception barely exists.

Next month, once my savings pocket is full, I am going to board the ferry home and see him. Almost a full year has passed since we last stood in the same room.

My message from last night still sits at the bottom of our chat.

Honey, have you eaten yet?

Sent yesterday at 21:03. Since dawn it has shown two gray checkmarks, delivered to his phone, not yet blue, not yet read.

Nora, the BA from the luxury watch counter next door, leans over to peek at my screen.

“Still no reply, Bi?”

“Bad reception out there.”

“Since yesterday?”

Sliding the drawer shut, I put my smile back on in the mirror.

“It’s normal. That’s just how mining life is.”

Shrugging, Nora heads back to her watch display.

The black crystal tester bottle I spray on my wrist every morning is the most expensive fragrance on our shelves. One bottle costs three months of my boyfriend’s wages.

Pulling the drawer open a crack, I scroll up to his last message from three days ago.

Night shift. Will call when I can.

Right beneath his name sits a tiny line of text.

Last seen today at 09:12.