The studio was already in motion when I stepped inside. The morning light outside was pale, almost silver, diffused through low clouds that clung to the skyline like breath on glass. Within these walls, the space pulsed with quiet movement. Simone was adjusting fabric on a mannequin near the sample rack. Marcus sat cross-legged at the far table, scrolling through boutique reports, confirming shipment statuses with meticulous rhythm. The air carried the scent of muslin, fresh paper, and lavender ...