“Rosemary, may I come in?”

The soft voice drifted from behind the boutique door two days after their last meeting. Rosemary, who had been arranging donated fabrics from a collector, looked up in surprise. Her chest tightened with unease. She almost refused outright, but then drew a deep breath.

“Come in,” she replied flatly.

The door opened, and Cassandra stepped in with a sweet smile, carrying a large box. “I brought you something. Think of it as a small gift… a sign of a new beginning.”

Rosemary eyed the box with suspicion. “What is it?”

Cassandra placed it carefully on the table. “Rare fabric from Italy. I know your boutique...