Forty-five minutes later, Anthea discovered exactly what Vessara meant by some stuff. She had barely stepped outside before freezing entirely. Her jaw dropped at the sight.
Two taxi drivers were unloading large paper bags from the trunks and passenger seats of their vehicles. Designer logos peeked from expensive packaging, the pile looking less like shopping and more like someone had emptied an entire luxury boutique onto her driveway.
"What the hell is going on?" Anthea demanded, her eyes wide as she took in the growing pile.
Vessara turned toward her, then slowly spread her hands in a helpless gesture. The exhaustion from the flight settled deeper into her bones.
Anthea shook her head, a disbelieving laugh escaping her. "When you said you had some stuff, I didn't picture this much. This looks like you robbed a boutique."
"It's a long story," Vessara murmured, watching one driver heft another oversized bag.
