The collar of Clara’s thrifted blouse wouldn’t sit right. No matter how many times she adjusted it, it still puckered slightly, like even the fabric knew it didn’t belong here. She stood frozen on the sidewalk outside Thomas Fashion HQ, staring up at the towering glass building that rose like a fortress into the morning sky. It gleamed with mirrored arrogance, reflecting a version of the world where only the powerful were welcome.
Her reflection in the sleek façade stared back at her—wide, anxious eyes, hair pinned in a nervous bun, lips pressed into a line trying to pass for confident. She looked like someone pretending she wasn’t about to be devoured alive.
This was it.
Her first day.
The beginning of whatever came next.
A door cracked open in a world that had slammed itself shut on
