Savanna’s POV

The brush in my hand smoothly slid into the white dish, squeezing out enough cream watercolor on it as well. I wanted to start dark, black with charcoal gray. I lifted my hand, adding no line of black to the stark paper.

Soon enough, the worry left me and I started to paint. Peace ran through me, erasing every tense thought. Like a pianist playing in a concert, a gymnast jumping a vault with the young girl playing in my element.

I was busy painting the town ...