Chapter 8

The humid, salty sea breeze drifted in through the half-open window. As I finished drawing the final sketch, I looked up, and my eyes met Shem's. He was leaning against the doorframe with two coffees in hand, and his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses crinkled into a smile. "Compared to the first draft, there are three more cracks on the wings of the final design of the Caged Bird series," he said. My fingers stiffened. In my sketch, the bird's wings were broken, but they still stretched upward stubbornly—just like how I had felt that night while curled up in the supply room, sketching. I reached out to accept the coffee, and the bitter fragrance bloomed in my mouth. "The cracks are the price of breaking free from the cage." "But cracks can let light shine through too," Shem said as he suddenly leaned down, his slender fingers tracing the edge of the paper. His cuff brushed the back of my hand, the warmth making me flinch instinctively. He chuckled, then placed a stack of pho