*Present Day*
The memory has me pausing at my bedroom door. Absently, my hand is resting on my cheek. I dropped my hand to the door handle and pushed my door open as I shook my head to rid myself of the memory.
Now where is that second sketchbook I had ordered? Was it 7 in x 10 in? Or was it 11 in x 14 in?
I didn’t have to look long; I found it on the shelf in the closet. It happened to be 9 in x 12 in. It will work. I’ll use graphite and colored pencils.
--
My phone buzzed again. I glanced at the clock; it was time for dinner. I picked up my phone and texted a reply to Isolde that I would be done in just a moment.
“Never thought I’d see wads of paper all over your floor.”
I looked up to see Holt, casually leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets. He had changed
