#Chapter 138: Like Mother

Agnes I sat at my desk a few days later, the late afternoon sun streaming through the office window, casting golden patches across the fabric swatches scattered in front of me. My fingers brushed over the silk I’d finally chosen for the gown—rather than black, I’d settled on a deep emerald green that shimmered faintly, like leaves catching the light. Ever since Elijah expressed his interest in wearing the suit to the gala, I’d been tweaking the dress design for days, wanting it to match as a trio set. I’d adjusted the drape of the skirt until it flowed just right, changed the color, and added some more structured lines that would honor the lines of the suit. But this afternoon, my pencil was moving across the sketchpad with a new purpose: a smaller, more childlike version of the gown, tailored specifically for Thea. A mother-daughter set. The thought warmed me, even as a familiar ache twisted in my gut. I shook it off, focusing instead on my work. The s