It was a Tuesday—ordinary in every way.

No meetings.

No looming deadlines.

Just another quiet day at work.

I was in the design annex on the third floor, finalizing a sketch for the seasonal textile review—a coat with asymmetrical shoulders, one sleeve slightly longer than the other, stitched with a single line of silver thread that cut across like a scar. I called it I Am Not What You Threw Away.

It was the first time I’d ever named a design after a truth instead of an idea.

And ...