"I need some... special work," I told the Seamstress.
She clicked her jaws, tilted her head.
"I can do better than that," I grunted, lifting the suitcase up, laying it out, popping the seals. The lid creaked back and she bent over to look. An unsettling smile creased her lips.
Of course. For you?
I nodded. Lifted a sleeve, stroked the fingers, noting where a wedding band would go.
"A new skin. This one's... too much to bear now."
Understood. Three days. Payment upon delivery.
I left her there, with the suitcase, with the flesh. Three days. With enough whiskey I could wait that long.