CLAIRE
The production house felt like a sanctuary compared to the chaos outside. Nina greeted me at the door with a warm hug.
"How are you holding up?" she asked.
"I'm okay," I said, though I wasn't sure if it was true.
"The second production run is almost complete," she said, leading me inside. "Come see."
We walked to the main studio where racks of clothing hung in neat rows. My designs, dozens of them, in different sizes and colors.
I stopped and stared, my breath catching slightly. "They're beautiful," I whispered.
Nina smiled. "They really are," she agreed. "Your vision came through perfectly."
I walked over and ran my fingers over one of the blazers, the fabric smooth and substantial under my touch. "This is real," I said quietly.
"Very real," Nina confirmed. "And selling we
