It had been a few more minutes of silence in the store when Aymara finally exclaimed, "This is the one!" Her voice echoed down the aisles as she picked up a doll from one of the farthest shelves.
The doll had long, lustrous blond hair and wore the typical princess dress, pink like the others. But there was something different about this one. While it appeared similar to the rest, the quality set it apart. As Aymara ran her fingers across the fabric, the tip of her finger pressed against the soft material, sending a slight shiver through her body—nothing major, just a small sensation that made her pause for a moment.
Without hesitation, she turned and began running toward Xaltal, who still seemed lost in thought, preoccupied with what had happened in Deacon earlier.
