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Zara looked at her team. “This is why we built Iris. Not for billion-dollar brands, but for the ones who have everything to lose.”

In the attic above the noodle shop, Zara, Leo, Mei, Raj, and Mr. Chen kept working. The tea was still warm. And Iris—now a thousand gentle sparks instead of one bright flame—kept weaving the world’s quiet truths into light. 1topmediai

She slid the card back. “Iris doesn’t belong to us,” Zara said. “It belongs to the stories that need to be told.” Zara looked at her team