Chapter 60. Epilogue: The Light They Built

A year later, the Wolfe Academy thrummed with creative energy in every corner. In the classrooms, a quiet harmony of industry unfolded—pencils whispered across paper, brushes tapped rhythmically against glass jars, muted voices rose and fell like waves on a shore. Sudden bursts of laughter rippled through the halls, light and unexpected, as if a flock of songbirds had taken flight. The air carried a faint blend of turpentine and freshly brewed coffee, mingled with the earthy tang of clay dust—and with it, the sense of possibility itself.

Alyssa stood behind the small wooden podium in the main studio, the largest, brightest room in the building. Late-morning sunlight poured through lofty windows, carving elongated rectangles of gold on the cool stone floor, each patch of light drifting as clouds drifted overhead. Canvases lined the walls behind her—unfinished worlds painted in strokes and splatters, urgent sketches frozen mid-thought, like stories paused in mid-sentence.