The next morning, Maya sat at her desk in The Pulse's open-concept office, surrounded by the sound of clicking keyboards and caffeine-fueled chatter. She stared at her half-written article on Deja, but her mind wasn't on the story—it was on the future.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Deja.
Deja: The difference between a dream and a plan? Action.
Maya tapped her fingers against the keyboard. Maybe it was time to stop dreaming and start moving.
And just like that, the idea of Concrete Roses—a magazine for women like her, for the voices often overlooked—began to bloom.