“Ms. Rosemary! Fire! Fire!!”
Mila’s scream jolted Rosemary, who was slumped in a chair at the back of the boutique. She sprang to her feet, pale, and ran toward the front.
Thick black smoke billowed from the storage room. The flames had already spread to the fabric racks, igniting rolls of expensive materials that had just arrived from overseas.
“No…” Rosemary sobbed. “No, this can’t be happening…”
Mila panicked, running to the door. “Get out, Ma’am! It’s dangerous!”
But Rosemary refused to leave. She dashed inside, trying to rescue a set of her nearly finished new dresses.
“Rosemary! Don’t be stupid!” Mila yelled hysterically. “Your life is more important than that fabric!”
Rosemary coughed violently from the smoke, eyes burning. “This… this is all that’s left of my reputation, Mil
