JULIA
I stared at the blank piece of paper on my desk, my fingers gripping the pencil tightly.
I needed to summon a miracle at this point.
The page remained just as blank as my mind. I groaned and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling for some divine intervention that never came.
This used to be so much easier. I used to pick up a pencil, and ideas would flow—faces, colors, emotions.
Art.
It used to mean so much to me. Now, it felt like trying to push through a wall that didn’t have a door.
I blinked at the paper again, muttering under my breath.
Five years. That was how long it had been since I made something spontaneous. Almost as old as Andy!
The project with Mrs. White was even easier because she had given us specific instructions. Mr. Matthews asked us to do
