Chapter 279
Audrey
Edwin and I emerged from the small room, his hand still resting protectively on my back. The hustle and bustle of last- minute preparations immediately hit us, assistants running back and forth, models being ushered into position, and the soft hum of the audience’s chatter drifting through the walls.
“I guess no one would have noticed our little tryst anyway,” Edwin mused under his breath with a smirk.
I glanced up at him, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. But a sound caused us both to whip our heads toward the dressing
area.
“Owww! My ankle!”
Exchanging worried glances, Edwin and I rushed toward the sound. A small group had gathered in a huddle near the back of the dressing area. In the center of the commotion was a young woman, one of the models, seated on a chair with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried out.
I hurried over, Edwin following closely behind.
“What happened?” I asked, kneeling in front of the model. She looked up at me, her face pale, tears clinging to her lashes. “I–I twisted my ankle really bad,” she stammered, wincing as she shifted her foot slightly. “I was fine earlier, but it hurts to put any weight on it now…”
Someone behind her chimed in, “She tripped backstage. I thought she’d just shaken it off, but…”
I glanced down at her ankle, which was already beginning to swell slightly under the delicate straps of her shoe. The show was minutes from starting. Panic might have been setting in, but I couldn’t afford that luxury–not now.
I took a calming breath, tapping into that silver pool of energy inside of me. With a reassuring smile, I reached out to touch/ her ankle. “May I?” I asked.
She winced, flinching away.
“It’s alright,” I murmured. “I’ll help you.”
of hesitation, the model finally nodded
touch her ankle.
I let that familiar flow of my healing power flow from my fingertips.
release, her muscles relaxing as the
my
and relief on her face. Her tears began to fade as
breathed, a smile breaking
“It’s what I’m here for. Now, get into place–you’re going to
relief from the surrounding crew was palpable, and I looked up at Edwin, I saw a look of pride in his eyes. He gave
as
said, clapping her hands together.
58%
the music began to play, a hush fell over the audience. I slipped into the shadows by the side
watching as the first model stepped into
made by Edwin, in his classic Brooks Designs style: a matching trousers and blazer set with an oversized, masculine fit. The shoulders draped easily
he had used to stitch everything together glimmered under the stage lights. Cameras flashed, the crowd oohing
neckline accentuated the model’s bust, the strappy heels and golden arm bands making her look as if she was bound by gold threads. Her
down the runway, each model a vision of the countless hours, the intricate stitching, the late–night sketches, and the dreams the three of us had poured into this collection. My heart swelled close to bursting as
Edwin beside me, his gaze focused on the runway
None of us could. We just watched in awe, holding each other. Piece after piece walked the runway, and the audience’s murmurs of appreciation grew louder, a few exclamations of awe reaching
was time for the final
I hoped that this piece wasn’t too out there, too eccentric. I hoped that people would understand the meaning behind it and not see it as a big jumble
nonsense.
shifted, switching to a haunting melody as the final model stepped onto the runway. I held my breath as
me, the flowers and birds and rays
were hundreds, all of them coalescing into the train at the back of the
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