The email pinged, and I froze for a second before opening it. Almost perfect. Almost. Not quite the flawless mark I’d imagined after all those sleepless nights in the studio, the paint-stained hands, the endless staring at every stroke, trying to get the meaning just right. I let out a shaky laugh and rubbed at my eyes.

Then my phone rang. Vienna’s name lit up the screen, bright and unrelenting.

“Laura! You did it! I knew you would. Congratulations!” she gushed, practically vibrating with excitement on the other end.

I smiled faintly, but my chest felt oddly tight. “Thanks,” I muttered. There was a small sting in her cheerfulness—it always...