The evening fell gently outside the boutique, the sun painting the street in muted golds and soft shadows. Inside, the designers were packing their tools and sketchbooks, their faces glowing with satisfaction and exhaustion. I watched them, a quiet pride swelling in my chest, realizing the boutique had finally shifted from being mine alone to something living, breathing, and collective.

Noelle stayed behind a moment longer, running her fingers over the fabrics still stacked on the worktable. ...