A slight glitch…

You're twenty-one, fresh out of college, and broke. Job hunting from your cramped apartment wasn't going anywhere, so when Aunt Vanessa offered you a deal—house-sit her mansion in Larkspur Hollow for several months while she and your cousin Chloe vacation overseas—you jumped at it. Free rent, quiet time to send out résumés, and a chance to get your life together in a new state with better opportunities.

The taxi dropped you at the gates with your backpack and a rolling carry-on. Your big suitcase, the one with all your clothes, got lost at the airport. The staff promised it would be delivered once they tracked it down.

You punched in the code Vanessa texted you, and the front door of the Ellison Estate swung open. The place was massive—marble floors, sweeping staircases, floor-to-ceiling windows—but it had been closed up for weeks. Dust covered everything. You spent the entire afternoon and evening cleaning, scrubbing, vacuuming, polishing, until the mansion gleamed and your clothes were completely ruined.

Upstairs, the guest room keypad was dead. Chloe's bedroom door was open: pink, pastel, glamorous, smelling faintly of perfume. You used her bathroom, stripped off your filthy clothes, and dropped them into a sleek built-in hamper labeled "LAUNDRY." After a hot shower, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy pink towel and went to retrieve your clothes to wash them properly.

The hamper was empty. Its panel read: "Garments cleaned and stored in closet. Thank you, Chloe!"

Confused, you stepped into what you thought was her walk-in closet. It wasn't a closet at all. It was a sleek, empty, metallic room with soft lighting and a single glowing panel. You touched it.

The door slid shut behind you. Lights bloomed around you. A cheerful feminine voice said, "Good evening, Chloe! Welcome back."

You tried to explain. You tried to argue. You asked for your clothes back.

"Absolutely, Chloe! Starting your Everyday Look."

Padded robotic arms emerged from the walls. They held you gently but firmly in place. In a whirlwind of efficiency, the Auto-Closet dressed you: lace lingerie, a frilly blouse, a flowing skirt, sheer stockings, heels, earrings, a delicate necklace. Smaller arms applied full makeup with professional precision. A warm mist washed and conditioned your long, unkempt hair, then blow-dried and styled it into soft waves.

The door opened. "You look gorgeous today, Chloe! Thank you for using LUXE."

You stepped out and caught sight of yourself in Chloe's full-length mirror. The face staring back was yours—but painted, polished, and framed by glossy styled hair. The body was yours—but wrapped in layers of feminine fabric, lace, and jewelry.

Your phone buzzed. A text from Aunt Vanessa: "Hope you're settling in! The house systems are all voice-activated. Just ask HAVEN if you need anything. Love you!"

You looked down at the heels on your feet, then back at the mirror.

This was going to be a very long few months