Chapter 13 Threads of truth.

The studio was quiet, the hum of sewing machines punctuating the early morning. Mireya stood over a mannequin, adjusting the fit of a sleek black gown.

Each stitch, each fold demanded precision, her focus a refuge from the chaos outside.

A soft knock at the door made her glance up.

"Come in," she called.

A young woman stepped inside, clutching