At her home, Cassidy was buried in work. Her pop-up store for Cy. Noire had been a surprising hit among the local fashion crowd, and now she was multitasking between meetings, emails, and sketches. On her tablet, a row of adorable rough drafts lined the screen—early concepts for her upcoming kidswear line, Little Noire, a project that had begun as a daydream and was now slowly taking shape. Claire, her little girl, had been the spark behind it all—her laughter, her style, her boundless curiosity became Cassidy's biggest inspiration.
Her studio smelled faintly of coffee and fresh paper, her mood focused but serene, until the sound of the front door opening startled her. Before she could even get up, a familiar voice echoed from the hallway.
"Anyone home?"
Cassidy's eyes widened. "Xavier?"
Before she could reach the entrance, a loud squeal cut through the air.
