Agnes
The show was a success. A huge one, in fact.
I knew it would be the moment the first Luna stepped onto the runway and I heard the crowd erupting into applause as the lights caught the intricate details of the designs. The outfits were stunning, even more so because they were born from chaos—from the shredded fabric and frantic stitching that had consumed my morning.
But as I stood backstage, watching the models strut down the runway, my chest tightened with a pain that cut deeper than those scissors had cut the fabric. The applause, the cheers, the donations pouring in for the charity—it all felt hollow. Empty. Meaningless.
Because Elijah wasn’t here.
He said he would be here, but he hadn’t shown up.
I’d scanned the crowd during the show, my eyes darting to th
