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"And what happens after?" Remei asked, curious.

"I don't know. That's for her to decide. The only thing I can do for her is offer her everything you know," she said with half a smile.

"All right then. I'll make sure to squeeze every last drop out of her."

"Thank you, Remei." Elvira touched her arm before turning and heading up the stairs.

And now Remei is delivering on that assignment. It's only Claudia's second day back in her section, but she's thrown herself into it so completely it's as though she never left.

"I'd change the sleeve," Claudia says, straightening up to pull her hair into a high ponytail because it gets in the way every time she leans over the table.

She's only been here a couple of days, but her whole face has shifted—the anxiety that usually smothers her has eased a little, as if every hour she spends in the pattern-making section loosens her muscles just a bit more and lets her brain breathe without drowning in the sea of doubts that's always swirling around in her head.

"Why?" Remei asks.

Claudia picks up a pencil and points to a spot.

"I think it's cut too high for a coat you're going to wear over a sweater or a blazer. I'd lower it a bit and open it out here to give more mobility."

"Hmm," Remei murmurs, nodding.

"I'd also adjust the length," she says, picking up steam. "I'd make the back a little longer so it hangs more loosely—I think it'd be more comfortable to wear."

"Do it," Remei orders.

"Do what?"

"Get a piece of paper, trace the base, and modify it the way you just described. I want to see it."

Claudia stares at her to make sure she isn't joking. When she sees Remei turn away to deal with other things, she smiles. She picks up a sheet of pattern paper, spreads it out on a clear section of the table, and starts drawing lines.

That's how the whole day goes—Claudia answering Remei's questions and asking others that come up as she works, because she's always drawn and has a solid grasp of some concepts, but there are other things that slip through the cracks.

"Where would the first dart go if I wanted to make a fitted coat?"

Remei caps the water bottle she's just been drinking from and steps closer.

"Fitted how?"

"Something that defines the waist without being tight."

"Lucky you girls who still have a waist," she mutters, making Claudia laugh. "You need two darts in the front and one in the back, at minimum. I'll show you."

She picks up a pencil and draws the dart lines onto the base, explaining where the support points go and why the dart depth depends on the difference between the chest and waist measurements, and Claudia soaks up every explanation, completely focused.

When she tries it herself, it goes wrong a couple of times—the dart comes out too deep or too short, or the placement is off and the garment would pull instead of fitting smoothly—but then the concept clicks and she finally sees the whole picture in her head, and when she gets it right on the third try she can't stop. She's so absorbed that she doesn't even hear the end-of-shift bell, and it's Remei who has to tap her on the shoulder to make her put down the pencil.

"You can pick up where you left off tomorrow. Go get some fresh air," she says, pointing toward the door.

"Okay," Claudia answers with a smile before saying goodbye.

When she pushes open the door to the entrance, she comes out at the same moment Laia is finishing her way down the stairs, and she can't control the flutter in her stomach—the one that makes her clench her jaw and hold herself rigid in a failed attempt to stop it. Things between them are stranger than ever. Yesterday they ran into each other at the exit just like this, and it was cordial and uncomfortable at the same time, because seeing each other, making small talk that neither of them cares about, and cutting the conversation short when they end up staring at each other with nothing left to say—both of them knowing that something is happening between them—is pretty unbearable. But each one has her own mistaken idea of what the other is thinking, and neither dares to say anything. Claudia because Laia's words were clear and devastating all at once—with a single sentence she took away any possibility of trying again and seeing what might happen. And Laia because she's convinced Claudia isn't for her, and she hasn't found the courage to ask and hear it from her directly.

"How's it going with Remei?" Laia asks. "You look better."

"Do I?" Claudia opens the door and holds it for her.

"Yeah," Laia confirms, glancing at her sideways as they walk through the parking lot.