Rotterdam in the spring was a breathtaking living canvas. The usually gloomy gray sky slowly turned into a clear pale blue, and the bone-chilling cold wind began to soften into a refreshing breeze.
I had been living at Matthew's house for three months now. Three months that felt like three years—in a good way. I had gotten used to the rhythm of life here: waking up early, helping Edwina prepare the twins' school lunches, going to the market on a bicycle (without falling anymore!), and most importantly... I was starting to have a purpose.
"Are you sure you want to take this class?" Edwina asked that morning, adjusting the collar of my coat. "It's a serious class, Cel. It's filled with ambitious young artists. Not socialite moms painting just to flex."
I smiled, tightening the strap of my
