Bella woke before dawn, the city still half-asleep, wrapped in that fragile quiet that only existed before reality asserted itself. For the first time in weeks, her thoughts weren’t immediately crowded by fear or anticipation.
They were focused.
She rose, brewed coffee, and sat at the small desk near the window. Her sketchbook open, her laptop glowing softly. The freelance call she’d taken the day before replayed in her mind. A tech startup in Brooklyn. Modest budget. Tight deadline.
Complete creative freedom.
It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t safe.
It was hers.
She began to work.
Hours slipped by unnoticed as she lost herself in composition and color, in problem-solving that didn’t involve headlines or family disappointment. When she finally leaned back, stretching, she realized somet
