Chapter 208

Third-Person POV

The dying sun oozed in through the blinds from the late afternoon, spreading long shadows across the room of Megan's studio. Seated at the desk, papers were sprawled before her, haphazard and littered, an allegory of the tangled dance her thoughts had taken. The room was quiet save for the occasional rustle of pages as she reviewed her work. There was a soft knock on the door; the silence was shattered.

"Megan?" came Chris's cautious but warm voice.

"Come in," Megan replied, lifting her face from the excited fixity of her desk, where it had been infused with a mixed sense of anticipation and dread.

Chris came into the room: a great relief to Megan, for several minutes before, she had been surrounded by her own marvelous thoughts—had been left alone, by contrast. His eyes held a mixture of concern and curiosity when he approached her desk.

"Hey," greeted Chris, offering a barely there smile of encouragement. "How's it go