Lisa could feel a fine layer of sweat on her forehead and neck when she finally got changed into her pajamas, and she almost wished she'd let Troy help her.
"Now you wish you let him help, don't you?"
She shook her head, knowing her denial wasn't exactly true.
She looked around the room, her childhood bedroom that she hadn't seen for a few years.
Her eyes landed and stuck on the small drawing table in the corner. It looked so small compared to the one in her condo, and especially the one in her fourth floor corner office at work.
The slanted surface held a spiral bound, fourteen by seventeen inch, drawing pad and a pencil box.
She didn't remember leaving those there, but she might have. She knew she left a couple boxes of drawings she'd saved since about seven years old and didn't ne
