.Chapter Twenty-Seven: Before the Train ComesThe final morning in Chicago bloomed with a strange stillness.The Lakeview studio was half-empty, canvases wrapped, brushes cleaned, portfolios zipped tight with finality. People moved like ghosts through the halls—saying goodbyes with wide smiles and weary eyes.Elena stood in front of her last piece, unfinished.It was bold. Fierce. A portrait not of a person, but of feeling. Swirling brushstrokes of red and dusk-blue bled into each other, anchored by a single white streak down the middle—like lightning, or a crack in glass.She’d titled it “Becoming.”⸻The Unexpected VisitJonah knocked gently on her studio door around 9 a.m.He wore his usual smirk, but it was softer now—resigned.“I came to say goodbye,” he said.She put down her brush. “Goodbye, then.”He looked around the studio. “You worked harder than anyone here.”“I had more to lose.”He nodded, folding his arms. “You could have stayed.”“I know.”He waited, but she said noth
Chapter Twenty-Six: While She’s AwayAdrian woke to the sound of soft humming.It was still dark out—just past five. The apartment was cold, quiet, still wrapped in the veil of sleep. He rolled over and reached for the warm shape beside him, but found only a tangle of blankets and a small stuffed elephant.Lila was already up.He found her in the living room, curled beneath the coffee table with a book in her lap, flipping through pages upside down.“Mornin’, sunshine,” he murmured.She looked up and grinned. “I readed the doggie story.”“That’s a good one,” he said, settling beside her. “But maybe we wait until the sun’s up next time, huh?”She nodded solemnly, then added, “Can we call Mommy today?”“Of course,” he said, pulling her into his arms.What he didn’t say was we called Mommy yesterday. And the day before. And three times last Sunday when you had a fever and refused to nap.But he understood.He missed her too.⸻Routine and RuinThe house had fallen into a rhythm, one held
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Distance BetweenChicago smelled like metal and promise.Elena stood outside the Lakeview Arts Institute, clutching her sketchbook like armor. The building was beautiful—brick and glass, with tall windows and wide hallways that promised space to breathe.For the first time in years, her days wouldn’t revolve around nap schedules or snack times.Just her.And that terrified her more than she expected.⸻The IntroductionTwelve artists. One cohort.They gathered in a circle on the first day, introducing themselves like they weren’t sizing each other up.There was Marisol, a ceramicist from Miami with hair dyed seafoam green. Damien, a kinetic sculptor who looked like he’d walked off a movie set. And Ava—British, blunt, and somehow already drunk on her third cup of coffee.Then there was Jonah.Painter. New York. Minimalist. Blue eyes like cracked ice.He looked at Elena like he knew she had something to prove.Later, when they were selecting studio spaces, he le
Chapter Twenty-Four: What We’re Made OfIt started with a knock on the studio door.Elena was brushing the last strokes on a canvas that had stolen three nights of sleep. She barely looked up when Adrian peeked in.“Hey,” he said. “Letter for you.”She glanced at the envelope. White. Thin. Official-looking.She didn’t recognize the sender.But the return address said Lakeview Arts Institute, Chicago.Her brush froze mid-stroke.Adrian caught her expression. “That’s… something?”Elena swallowed. “It’s the residency. The one I applied to months ago. Didn’t think I’d even—” She broke off, suddenly breathless.He handed her the letter gently.“You should open it.”⸻The OfferDear Ms. Reyes,Congratulations. You have been selected for the Fall Residency Program at the Lakeview Arts Institute in Chicago. This six-week immersive experience brings together twelve of the most promising emerging artists from across the country…Elena’s eyes blurred halfway down.Six weeks.Fully funded.Nation
Chapter Twenty-Three: The OfferThe email came at 10:14 a.m.Adrian was on the floor of the living room, helping Lila build a crooked tower of plastic blocks. Elena was upstairs, finally finding her rhythm in the studio again. It was a rare quiet morning.He read the subject line twice:POSITION OFFER – Assistant Creative Director, Auden & Black Music DivisionHe blinked. Then opened it.⸻The LetterAuden & Black is thrilled to offer you the position of Assistant Creative Director for our East Coast music division. We believe your unique artistic voice, combined with your experience mentoring young artists, aligns with our vision for the future of genre-crossing acoustic innovation…He skimmed.Base salary: high.Location: Manhattan office, hybrid.Start date: flexible.Benefits: generous.Creative freedom: “encouraged, within structure.”He let out a slow breath.It was everything he’d once dreamed of — when he was nineteen, hungry, and wide-eyed in studio basements. Before his musi
Chapter Twenty-One: The FeverIt started with a whimper.Lila had been unusually clingy all afternoon, refusing food, turning her head away even from the strawberries she usually devoured. Elena chalked it up to teething. Adrian rubbed her back and said, “Kids have off days too.”But by midnight, her skin was hot to the touch.By two a.m., she was burning up.Elena paced the bedroom with her daughter cradled to her chest, whispering nonsense lullabies while checking her temperature every fifteen minutes. 102. 103. 103.7.“She’s never had a fever this high,” Elena said, her voice thin, cracking.Adrian stood behind her, phone in hand. “Urgent care says bring her in. Now.”Elena didn’t even put on shoes.⸻In the Waiting RoomThe hospital was cold. Sterile. The hum of fluorescent lights overhead made everything feel surreal, like they were underwater.Lila lay limp against Elena’s chest, her tiny body shivering despite the heat radiating off her skin.Adrian was filling out forms when E