Alright, until the end.

The photoshoot proceeded without any mishaps for Winona. Despite her earlier worries, she managed to get through it without drawing any unwanted attention to her unusual morning. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of posing, wardrobe changes, and endless camera flashes, the photographer clapped his hands together and declared the shoot over.

Winona sighed in relief, stretching her arms as an assistant approached her. "Great work today, Winona. You can head back to the dressing room and change. Just make sure to return the outfits right away."

"Got it," Winona replied, though a nagging feeling of unease settled in her stomach as she made her way to the dressing room. She wasn’t exactly eager to return to her original state of undress, but at least this ordeal was nearly over.

Once inside, she shut the door behind her and immediately began removing the final outfit she had worn. Piece by piece, she stripped down, draping the clothing over her arm as she prepared to return it.

Just as she was reaching for a hanger, a sharp knock came at the door.

"Miss Ryder? We need those outfits back now."

Winona hesitated for only a moment before responding. "Uh, yeah! Just a second!" Carefully, she cracked the door open, using it as a barrier to shield her exposed body. She handed over the neatly folded clothes through the gap. "Here you go."

"Thanks!" the assistant chirped, taking them and quickly walking away.

Winona shut the door with a relieved sigh. That was handled well enough.

Then she turned around—and her stomach dropped.

Her overalls were nowhere to be found.

At first, she simply stood there, staring at the empty space where she had expected them to be. A sudden rush of panic shot through her as she frantically searched the small dressing room. She checked under the bench, behind the door, even rifled through the wardrobe racks in case someone had mistaken them for part of the shoot’s outfits.

Nothing.

Her breathing quickened. The realization hit her like a truck: she was completely naked. And she had absolutely nothing to wear.

Her heart pounded as she pressed her back against the door, her mind racing through her options. This had to be a mistake, right? Maybe they’d been misplaced? Maybe someone had grabbed them by accident?

But one thing was certain—until she found a solution, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Note: This chapter was written with the help of ChatGPT.