Delia shut the door as soon as she was inside. She set her things down as she glanced around. The studio was spacious and full of light with windows covering all but two walls. She took it all in; this was why Delia had risked her life and driven alone for almost five hours through some of the most winding roads in existence. This was why she had fought with and eventually convinced herself she needed to be brave. This was why she had extended her work trip and run the risk of missing her flight that coming Monday. As much as she hated the potential outcomes she had pictured over and over again, this trip had been necessary. If there was ever a time to self-evaluate, to understand who she was and how she felt about herself, to know if she had truly emerged from the ashes, this was it.

T...

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