en in magazines, yet to her, it was a sanctuary. Its walls were bare, its furniture secondhand

g her exhausted beyond reason. She would sit on the floor, rocking one chi

pressing kisses to their soft forehead

inally slept. Some days she worked as a cleaner, other days as a waitress. It was grueling, b

leste's designs caught her professors' attention. She had an eye for elegance, for turning f

n helped babysit when her studies kept her late. To the world, she was just another student wit

ly, each revealing gift

, pulling apart toys and putting them back together, his small fingers faster than most adults'. The third, Nathaniel, was drawn to books about the human body, preten

rs filling her eyes. "You're going to chan

ed at the top of her class, her designs catching the attention of global fashion houses. Soon, her name became synonymous with

delicate emblem she often wove into her work, a p

as untouchable-rich, admired, and mysterious. But in her home, she was still just Mama, reading

when fate would drag her back to the place sh

d moved on, Dami

the mysterious woman with the butterfly tatt