The final stretch of the Maison Laurent campaign arrived with a strange mix of urgency and inevitability. Three weeks remained, and the studio felt like a living organism—breathing, pulsing, demanding. Sienna moved through it with a steadier rhythm than before, no longer on the brink of collapse but still carrying the weight of long days and high expectations. The burnout hadn’t vanished, but it had softened into something she could manage, something she could navigate with Luca’s quiet presence anchoring her.
Their evenings became the only part of the day that felt untouched by the chaos. No matter how late she returned, Luca was always awake, waiting for her with a softness she had never expected from him. Sometimes he sat on the sofa with a book. Sometimes he worked at the dining table
