#Chapter 179: Singed
Agnes
The next few days passed in a whirlwind. I threw myself into finalizing the survival bag prototype, making the last adjustments to ensure every feature worked perfectly. The panic button compartment had been the biggest challenge, requiring three complete redesigns before I was satisfied with it.
“This has to be perfect,” I muttered to myself just two nights before the Goddess Festival as I stitched the final reinforcements into the seams. The bag laid open on my work table—a sleek, gender-neutral design in a deep navy blue with subtle gray accents. Nothing flashy or attention-grabbing, which was exactly the point. It needed to be practical, discreet, and potentially life-saving.
Maria poked her head into my office, her eyebrows raised. “You’re still here?” She rubbed her tired eyes, indicating that she’d been hard at work as well. “It’s past nine.”
I glanced at the clock, surprised to see she was right. I’d promised Elijah I’d be home for dinner with him

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