MADISON'S POV
Neither the plans that had been made, the reassurances, and the whispering flying across the room meant a thing as I sat there, staring at the finished work of her designs through her phone and feeling unsatisfied. Tomorrow loomed ominously. Kimberly or rather Miss K. Even the name twisted in my stomach.
Her designs had always been perfect. She had that special magic with a design, putting her soul into cloth. I'd envied it once; now, it was becoming a huge threat to me.
"Madison,” my father's voice broke me out of my reverie.
I looked up startled, the phone nearly falling from my hand. He was standing by the large window, his back straight, the edge of authority lacing his voice as ever, and it made me feel like a child again. "Are your designs finalized?"
"
