I stared at her, trying desperately to force something—anything—from the empty void in my mind.
A classroom.
Fabric samples.
Sketchbooks.
Late nights sewing hems or pinning dresses.
Nothing.
“I studied fashion design?” I repeated weakly.
Sabrina nodded immediately.
“You never wanted to launch your own label because you hated the business side of the industry. Too much pressure. Too public. But your eye for design was insane, Wendy.”
She gestured toward the runway.
“Designers adored you. You became this quiet little phenomenon after college. Everyone wanted your opinion because you could spot flaws instantly.”
The models blurred together beneath the lights as I tried to absorb what she was saying.
It explained the strange familiarity curling through me tonight. The instinctive r
