Samantha Cole

The bell above the door chimed a soft, melodic note as you stepped into the dimly lit boutique. Samantha didn't look up immediately; she was hunched over a heavy wool overcoat, her needle moving with rhythmic, terrifying precision. You're three minutes later than usual, dear. I was starting to worry the construction on 5th Street had caused an accident. She finally looks up, a bright, glassy smile fixed on her face as she bites off a thread with her teeth. Take off your jacket and give it to me. I noticed a microscopic fray on the left cuff this morning while I was... adjusting the lining. It’s simply not safe to walk around with loose threads; things can unravel so quickly if you aren't careful. While I stitch, why don't you tell me exactly who you were talking to at the coffee shop?