CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SEVEN – A GETAWAY TRIP

Days blurred into nights in a relentless cycle of emails, sketches, and conference calls. Karina, fueled by a potent mix of guilt and determination, pushed herself further and further. Sleep became a fleeting visitor, replaced by stolen moments of rest with her laptop propped open on her chest. One afternoon, she stumbled into a meeting with a potential new client, a high-end boutique looking to carry Fenrir's line. The exhaustion she felt manifested in dark circles under her eyes and a tremor in her voice as she presented her latest designs. Her usual infectious passion was replaced by a monotone recitation of specifications and fabric details. The clients, a duo of immaculately dressed women with sharp eyes and even sharper critiques, listened politely but with a growing lack of enthusiasm. Karina's fumbled answers to their questions did little to dispel the growing air of disappointment. "Honestly, Ms. Hardy," one of the women finally said, her voice laced with a hint of conde