The phone vibrated in Isabella's backpack, and her heart leapt when she saw Mia's name.
"Bella! You won't believe it!" Mia's voice was bright, full of energy. "I got you a job at the Grand Seraphina Hotel! You'll be working as a bar attendant!"
Isabella froze. Her chest tightened. "At… at the hotel?" she whispered.
"Yes! I spoke to them already. They loved your attitude. It's a real opportunity, Bella. You'll be in a place with influential people, a chance to make your own way!"
Isabella's lips trembled. "Oh… oh my God… thank you, Mia! Thank you so much! You helped me… You really did." Her voice cracked slightly with gratitude.
Mia laughed softly. "Of course! That's what friends are for. But now… we need to get you ready. We're going shopping, and I want you to go to the salon. The hotel is a reputable place...you need to look confident, professional, and polished. People notice details, Bella."
They walked through the bustling streets, sunlight bouncing off the windows of polished boutiques. Isabella's eyes widened at the elegant displays, soft silk blouses, tailored skirts, and delicate shoes. Her fingers itched to touch the fabrics, feel their quality, their smoothness, their weight.
In the first store, Mia guided her toward a cream-colored blouse. "Try this," she said, smiling. "It's soft, but it makes you look sophisticated."
Isabella hesitated. "I… I don't think—"
Mia interrupted gently but firmly, "Just try it. Please. Trust me, Bella. I'm helping you step into this world...you don't have to do it alone."
Reluctantly, Isabella stepped into the changing room. The mirror reflected a version of her she didn't recognise: the blouse fell elegantly over her thin frame, soft fabric brushing against her wrists. She turned slowly, watching how the light danced across the cream fabric. Her chest tightened with a mixture of awe and nervousness.
When she stepped out, Mia's eyes lit up. "See? You look amazing. That blouse… It's perfect. The colour highlights your eyes, your skin… You look confident, Bella."
Next was a fitted black skirt, soft yet structured, falling just above her knees. She slid it on, feeling the smooth fabric hug her hips and thighs. She twirled slightly, shyly, and Mia clapped. "Yes! Perfect. It's professional but still elegant. People will notice you, but in a good way.
Isabella laughed softly. "I… I can't believe you made me do all this."
"You needed it," Mia said, smiling warmly. "You'll thank me later."
By the time they were done, Isabella was carrying a small pile of carefully selected outfits, shoes, and subtle accessories. Mia insisted on adding a simple gold bracelet and a delicate necklace. Isabella protested, cheeks burning. "Mia, it's enough…"
"No, Bella," Mia said, firm but kind, "these little things make a big difference. I'm helping you because I know how capable you are...you just need to see it too."
Next, they went to a cosy, fragrant salon. The air smelled of shampoo, conditioners, and light floral perfume. Soft instrumental music played in the background. Isabella's chestnut hair fell tangled around her shoulders, a little oily and unkempt from weeks of stress.
The stylist guided her to a chair, brushing gently. The bristles massaged her scalp, warm and soothing. Isabella closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax for the first time in weeks.
"We're going to give you loose waves, smooth but natural," the stylist explained. "Something that looks polished, approachable, and professional."
As the warm steam from the hair treatment enveloped her, the stylist worked meticulously, brushing, blow-drying, and curling strands into soft, controlled waves. Isabella watched the transformation in the mirror: the tangled mess of yesterday replaced by shiny, soft chestnut waves cascading over her shoulders, framing her face beautifully.
Mia hovered nearby, nodding approvingly. "See? You look so gorgeous.
Isabella bit her lip, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. "I… I don't know if I can… all this feels… too much."
Mia smiled, squeezing her hand. "Bella, you deserve to feel good. You've been through so much. Let this be your moment. Let yourself shine."
By the time Isabella returned home, the sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the streets. She carefully carried her small haul of clothing, shoes, and accessories, making sure her father didn't see them. She hid the bags behind the sofa and under her bed.
Her mother was in the kitchen, humming softly as she washed dishes. Isabella's heart raced. "Mom…" she said softly, "I… I got a job. At the Grand Seraphina Hotel, Mia helped me."
Her mother's eyes widened, disbelief giving way to joy. "Bella! That's… that's amazing! I'm so proud of you! ,How can I thank Mia?....."i will tell you her you said thank you". She embraced her daughter tightly, tears glimmering in her eyes. "You… you're going to do so well!"
Isabella felt warmth flood through her. The oppressive weight of home, the fear, the shadows, they didn't vanish completely, but for the first time in a long while, she felt hope. She glanced at the hidden shopping bags, the soft fabric of her new blouse and skirt, and the gold bracelet glinting faintly. Mia's words echoed in her mind: You're going to shine.
For the first time, Isabella allowed herself to believe it might be true.