The meeting happened three days later, in a glass-walled office on the top floor of the Crew Enterprises building, high enough that the entire city stretched out beneath the windows like something small and manageable, an entire world Silveria could suddenly see the edges of.
She sat across from a woman named Adriana, the head of the small fashion label Damien had mentioned, her sketchbook clutched tight against her lap like it might somehow slip away and run if she loosened her grip even slightly. Adriana was younger than Silveria had expected, sharp-eyed and elegantly dressed, a pair of thin glasses perched on the end of her nose.
"Mr. Crew says you have talent," Adriana said, studying Silveria over the rim of those glasses with an assessing look that made Silveria's stomach twist nervously. "He doesn't usually say things like that about people. In fact, I don't think I've ever once heard him say it before."
