Eliana stood beside Liam and Jean inside the bright, humming workshop that reeked of chemicals and fresh plastic. Rolls of latex in various colors lined one wall, while samples of stretch and sheen hung from hooks near the back.
Jean was mid-ramble about tensile strength and moisture resistance—terms Eliana had come to understand in a very trial-by-fire kind of way—while Liam picked at one of the swatches between his fingers.
"Luca said it has to feel like second skin, not second armor," Liam muttered, stretching the material experimentally.
Jean nodded. "And breathable, because if anyone faints mid-runway in July heat, we're liable."
Eliana let out a small laugh. "And Luca will faint louder than anyone."
They chuckled. For a moment, she joined in—smiling, the warmth curling at the edges of her chest.
Then it passed.
She fell quiet again, eyes drifting toward a far wall but not really looking at it. Just… drifting.
