“You look like a Lindstrom,” Darla said, her voice dropping to a soft tone I hadn’t heard from her in years.

She walked up to the edge of the platform and straightened the right strap on Sadie’s shoulder.

“That’s the dress.”

“Grandma, I don’t know how much this one costs,” Sadie whispered.

“That tag was the first one you snapped off.”

Darla turned on her heel and headed for the register.

“That isn’t your worry.”

Chloe went around behind the glass counter and turned her monitor toward us.