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 anything, so I was having a hard time.
“Julia!”
I flinched at Sarah’s voice cutting through my thoughts and turned to see her leaning against the doorframe. She looked at me with one brow raised and arms cro
