Chapter 15. The Email

Camila’s fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the polished mahogany surface of her antique desk. Each beat echoed the tension that had settled in her chest over the past twenty-four hours. Her deep brown eyes flickered every few seconds to the silvery laptop before her, its blank screen a mirror of possibility—and anxiety. She had spent weeks pouring herself into the submission for the “Visions of Tomorrow” Fashion Design Contest, and now, all she could do was wait.

“Come on,” she muttered under her breath, a whisper that was part command, part plea. The word seemed to hang in the air, almost tangible, as if willing the digital inbox to deliver the awaited verdict.

Her long, dark hair shifted like liquid silk over her shoulder as she leaned closer, willing the screen to come alive. Despite the privileges her wealth and status afforded her, this was a battlefield she had to conquer on merit