She Turned Her Grief Into Wings novel Chapter 51

Half an hour later, the competition officially kicked off.

Contestants took the stage in the order they had drawn. The entries ranged from modern interpretations to classic sheath dresses and pure historical restorations, their quality varying wildly.

At the judges' table, Galen Croft’s brow furrowed and relaxed intermittently, occasionally looking down to jot a few notes on his scoring sheet.

When it was Rosalie Kerr's turn, a noticeable stir rippled through the audience.

She walked her model onto the stage. The model wore a pale mauve sheath dress, entirely covered in intricate hand-embroidery depicting a spectacular "Butterflies Dancing Through Flowers" motif. The needlework was so meticulous that the stitches were practically invisible to the naked eye.

Galen gave a slight nod, a faint smile finally gracing his lips.

It seemed he had finally found something that met his standards.

As Rosalie stepped off the stage, she walked past Shera Jewell. Her gaze lingered on her for a split second, the corner of her mouth curling into a deeply meaningful smile.

A few more contestants followed. Shera thought their pieces were quite good—bold color palettes and silhouettes that seamlessly integrated current trends. The audience’s energy was visibly rising.

"Next up, contestant number ten, Shera Jewell."

As the host called her name, Shera took a deep breath, grabbed a microphone, and walked onto the stage.

The spotlight hit her, and the sliver of nervousness she had felt in the waiting area instantly vanished.

Her model stepped onto the runway, offering a 360-degree view of the garment: a tailored, structured black-and-gold suit. The cut was sharp, the lines fluid. Against a deep obsidian background, gilded accents shimmered. Subtle leaf-vein motifs wove through the dark fabric, catching the light in a display of understated, quiet luxury.

There was not a single superfluous element on the entire piece; every detail was executed with absolute precision.

The auditorium fell completely silent for a moment.

Galen Croft, whose eyelids had been drooping slightly, looked up. His gaze locked onto the garment and didn't move for a long time.

The other judges also sat up straighter, carefully examining the details.

Shera began to explain her design inspiration. Her voice was slightly hoarse, but her articulation was clear, her logic impeccable.

Galen nodded in return and asked nothing more.

The other judges followed up with a few more questions, all of which Shera answered with practiced ease.

As Shera walked off the stage, her footsteps felt a little unsteady.

Zena hurried over to support her. "Are you okay, Shera?"

Shera shook her head. "I'm fine." But a thick layer of cold sweat had already formed on her forehead.

Just a moment ago, when Shera mentioned that 'important person,' Helga Sutton's eyes had flickered slightly.

She tilted her head to look at Caden. The man's face was unreadable, betraying no emotion.

But she still noticed that his hands, resting on his knees, had subtly clenched into tight fists.