Miranda felt thoroughly distracted as she stepped into the hall where the next fashion show would be held. Her thoughts were constantly bouncing between the little mystery she had on her hands, her discussion with the US Marshals, and all the work that had to go into Fashion Week. Still, this was the one event that she wanted to pay close attention to, since it would be the reveal of the Emily line. Her own Emily was right behind her, a small notepad in her hand, and she gave Miranda a tense smile as they took their seat in the front row.

While she waited for the show to begin, Miranda made small talk with the other important people gathered there. She wasn't surprised to find that more of the larger fashion houses had stayed away from this show, since the designer was a virtual nobody. A part of her had hoped that her presence would be enough to get more people interested in the designer, but that was not the case. That could work out in her favor, however, since that just increased the likelihood of her getting the inside track on the designer and perhaps land the publishing scoop of the century. Discreetly, she pulled her mobile out of her purse and took a few pictures of the runway in order to get a feel for how things would look once the models started their walk. Once she was satisfied that she'd have decent enough pictures of her own before she got the glossies back from the professional photographers at the show.

"I never took you to be slumming, Miranda."

She looked up into the face of one of the fashion bloggers that was a constant thorn in her side for the past six months and arched her eyebrow a little before clearing her throat and turning her attention to the runway once more. "I don't consider scouting new talent to be slumming it, Ms. Peoples. Though I'm assuming that this is the only show that you could get the credentials for."

Miranda knew that it was a low blow, and judging by how red the young woman's face went, she knew that she had hit her mark. "Maybe this was the only interesting show of the week," she sniffed before high tailing it away from Miranda and Emily. Her assistant tittered quietly, though she quelled that sound with one look at her.

"She thinks that she's on the same level as you, Miranda. It's always nice to see you put these upstarts in their place. You're going to have to do that more often."

She shrugged with one shoulder as she heard the music for the show start to play. To her immense surprise, it wasn't the normal, pulsating, music that was meant to pump up the crowd, even though she found it to be a thoroughly annoying trend in the fashion world. Instead, there was the soothing sound of classical music, Bach, if she wasn't mistaken. "Take a note of the music played, Emily. Whilst I'm not completely certain, it might help us figure out who the mystery designer is."

"Yes, Miranda." She watched as Emily did as told, confidently writing down the name of the piece along with Bach's name. "I grew up playing the cello, Miranda. This music is as familiar to me as Queen."

"There are hidden facets to you that I still have yet to discover," Miranda murmured as the lights went down in the house. Instantly, her focus turned to the catwalk with her usual one hundred percent attention, and she felt Emily do the same next to her. The first look that went down the runway was another surprise, as it was something she would have expected to see Annie Lennox wear back in the Eighties, while also having a completely modern feel to its androgyny. It was also completely different from the Penelope collection, with none of the bold colors or patterns that had first caught Miranda's attention. She took a few pictures of the first look, wondering what the last piece would look like, if this one was so strong straight out of the gate.

The show was like a fever dream of impeccable fashion, and she knew that she would have to meet the designer sooner rather than later. Usually, the designer walked with their models at the conclusion of the show, but the final model, dressed in an ethereal gown that still matched the essence of the entire show, walked alone once more. Miranda stood and applauded the collection, slipping her phone back into her pocket as she watched the models disappear backstage once more. As soon as most of the people attending the show had left the room, Miranda slipped backstage herself, knowing that there was a very good chance that she would somehow stumble upon the designer, as they always watched the show, even if they didn't put in an appearance.

"Oh, Ms Priestly! I didn't know that you'd be attending this show!"

She turned her head to see one of the security guards that she was accustomed to working with at larger fashion shows. That was another piece in the puzzle, she was almost certain of it, and she gave him her friendliest smile as she nodded. "I saw this designer's first collection and saw something special in it, and thus knew that I would have to see her next collection walk live. But no one knows anything about her, and I would love to pick her brain for Runway. Do you think that you might point her out to me?"

"I wish that I could, but I'm not ever certain of who she is. All I have for her is a name."

Miranda frowned as she nodded, looking around at the models gathered back there. They seemed so relaxed and at ease, as if they knew the designer, and her frown deepened as an older woman caught her attention. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but Miranda couldn't put her finger on where she might have seen her before. Then she watched as she reached out and stroked the arm of the final model, caressing the fabric of the dress lovingly. That told her that she was most likely the designer.

That didn't help her out at all, since it appeared as if the woman had felt her gaze on her. The woman allowed her eyes to widen for one moment before her eyes narrowed and she leaned in to whisper something into the model's ear. Miranda watched her nod before the model started in her direction, blocking the smaller woman from sight just long enough for Miranda to lose her in the crowd. "Ms. Priestly! Thank you for coming to see my show."

"It's not your show, and I'll thank you not to lie to me. What's the name of the woman who just spoke to you?" she said icily, staring the model down.

The model blanched a little under the scrutiny, and she took a deep breath as she shook her head. "That information is hidden behind an iron clad NDA. I'm sorry. For all intents and purposes, I am the public face of Snowflake Designs. I can answer any questions that you might have on the collections that have been shown so far."

"I might have to take you up on that offer. Do you have a card?"

"Give me a minute, and I'll get that information for you."

Miranda watched her move off, and then she turned towards her security guard. "I'll take whatever real information you have on the designer now. Thank you." He nodded as he pulled out a small card, handing it to her. "That wasn't so hard, now was it. And when you need any work, come see me. There will always be a place for you at Runway."

"Thank you, Ms. Priestly." After shaking his hand, Miranda turned on her heel, not bothering to wait for the model's information, since she knew that it truly didn't matter in the scheme of things.