“Ma’am, did you hear?” Mila ran into the workroom clutching a tablet, her face anxious. “The gossip sites are saying you’ve been accused of copying Cassandra’s designs. The story is already spreading.”

Rosemary, who had been arranging patterns, froze; her fingers hovered uselessly in the air. “Copying…?” she repeated softly.

Mila nodded quickly. “Yes — and the source is obvious: Cassandra. She made a vague comment on last night’s TV interview. She said, ‘Some people out there aren’t ashamed to copy ideas just to survive.’ Everyone immediately linked that to you.”

Rosemary drew a long, heavy breath; her chest tightened. “She will never stop, will she? Whatever I do, Cassandra...