The studio was quiet when I slipped in, the faint hum of the city outside leaking through the tall windows. I had planned to spend the night putting the final touches on my canvas, just me and the paint, just me and the colors that had carried me through the last two weeks.

But the moment I stepped closer, my stomach dropped. The canvas… it was ruined.

Swirls of color smeared across lines that had once been sharp. Shapes that had meant something to me, that had whispered pieces of my soul, were now chaotic, unrecognizable. I froze, my hand trembling as I reached out and touched the corner of...