He stopped at the middle shelf of the shop’s long wall, where one of her premium creations sat on a display stand. Long fingers, delicate, moving with the memory of lost elegance, extended from the frayed edge of his sleeve. He brushed them over the glass display case, leaving clear streaks where he had disturbed the dust. The exploration continued beyond the case, his fingers trailing over stacked boxes of crudely cut wands, as if looking for one that called to him.