The shift did not show up in a dramatic makeover. It appeared in tiny delays: checking the hallway mirror only once instead of five times, then straightening the strap of a cobalt top after the elevator doors had already opened. She had spent years dressing to feel put together. Now she was dressing with the possibility of being remembered.

That distinction changes the whole walk to a date. A jacket comes off later. A neckline is chosen because it frames the face when someone leans closer. The point is not to look twenty-eight; it is to look like a woman who has stopped hiding behind practical clothes. Her sister noticed first at brunch: “You’re taking your time again,” she said, watching her apply lip color before Saturday dinner. Taking her time had become the signal.