Gia never shortened her name again. On her first studio project, she designed a pavilion with four entrances—north, south, east, west—each leading to a different room. One room smelled of espresso. One of sandalwood. One was empty, painted pale blue. The last was a hallway of mirrors.
“Yes,” Gia said.
Meera smiled. She stamped the form. Accepted. gia dibella nicole doshi