The lender halted the inspection while it reviewed the signatures. Priya's company confirmed in writing that it would not use my designs. Those victories were temporary, Simone warned, but temporary could still make room to breathe. I moved into the apartment above the bakery, close enough to walk to work. My sister brought two lamps and no questions I had to answer. On the first night, I ate the birthday cake from a chipped blue plate. It tasted faintly of refrigerator onions and entirely like mine.

Customers began calling after Priya corrected the hotel proposal with the local design council. I refused requests for interviews, but I accepted commissions under contracts Rosa and I read aloud together. We added a line naming the maker beside every custom pattern. The words looked almost embarrassingly obvious on paper. I wondered how many obvious protections I had avoided because asking for them seemed unfriendly. Rosa framed the first signed page and hung it inside the supply closet, where only we would see it.

Adrian and I met twice with mediators. He admitted moving Lorna's money and submitting copied signatures, though he insisted he meant to repay everything after financing closed. Intent did not mend the roof or restore trust. We arranged the sale of our house and a repayment plan secured by his share. The shop building remained disputed, but I had a documented lease while the case proceeded. I stopped trying to make the ending graceful enough to comfort him. Fairness required records, not a prettier story.

On the morning the roofers finally arrived, rain started before they could unload. Water tapped into the bucket beside my sink. I wore the green dress under a canvas apron because a photographer from the design council was coming to document the new collection. When the lights flickered, I expected panic. Instead, Rosa opened the blinds, the roofers covered their tools, and I kept stitching. A length of green thread ran from my needle across the table toward a pattern no one had seen yet.