He had attended preschool before, but he never liked talking. Making friends was impossible for him; he could only watch the others y from the sidelines. Eventually, he began to fear interacting with anyone at all. The more time passed, the more withdrawn he became. Before long, he was the one left out, the boy everyone forgot.


    So he just kept drawing, over and over–because as long as he had his sketchbook, he didn’t have to talk to anyone. If he kept drawing, it didn’t matter that he was always alone.


    “Ivan?” Eddie’s voice was gentle, pulling Ivan from his thoughts.


    Ivan blinked up at him, a flicker of hope in his eyes. But it faded just as quickly, and he shook his head before picking up his pencil again.


    Eddie’s heart ached for him, but he didn’t push. Instead, he quietly left the studio, closing the door softly behind him so Ivan could have the space to himself.


    Just one window away, Ivan sat in silence, focused and serious as he worked on his drawing. Meanwhile, outside, York was grinning from ear to ear, hisughter echoing through the yard.


    “What are you doing out here?” Alessia sounded surprised when she saw Eddie step out. “How’s he doing?”


    “Much better than before. You can tell his mood’s improved a lottely,” Eddie replied, setting a fresh cup of tea in front of her. “He’s even started using bright colors–yellows, oranges–colors he never touched before. The whole feel of his artwork is lighter, not as dark or heavy as it used to be.”


    He paused. “Has anything happened recently? Anything that might have brought about this change?”


    Alessia frowned, thinking back over the past week for anything significant.


    “Rex, are you an idiot? Give me the ball! Get back here!” York’s exasperated shout rang out from the yard.


    That snapped Alessia back to the present. It wasn’t just Ivan who had changed–York seemed different, too. The gloom and defensiveness that used to surround him had faded, and even the old chip on his shoulder–the sense that the whole world was out to get him–had softened.


    Their childhoods had been unhappy in different ways, but that had shaped them


    Chapter 16.


    <b>into </b><bplete </b><b>opposites</b>. Strangely<b>, </b>though<b>, </b><b>they </bplemented <b>each </b><b>other </b><b>perfectly</b>.


    “I think maybe just having someone their own age around makes things easier <b>for </b>them than dealing with us adults,” Alessia said.


    Eddie nodded. “That’s why I asked Ivan if he wanted to try school again. He clearly longs for it, but he shook his head and refused.”


    “School? Isn’t that a bit risky, with so many people?” Alessia asked, worry creasing


    her brow.


    “If he had someone familiar by his side, he’d probably feel much safer,” Eddie hinted.


    Alessia gazed out the window at York, who was ying without a care in the world, and sighed.


    “York,” she called.


    At the sound of her voice, York abandoned his tug–of–war with Rex and bounded over. “What’s up?”


    Alessia beckoned him closer. He hurried to her side.


    “Would you like Ivan to go to school with you?”


    York narrowed his eyes, sensing a trap. “What do you want me to do?” For all his goofiness, he was sharp when it counted–a true Tate, through and through.


    “Didn’t you tell us you wanted Ivan at your school? That you’d look out for him?” Alessia pressed..


    York paused. That had, in fact, been exactly what he’d dered at the Morton family dinner table.


    “What’s wrong? The great York Tate, going back on his word? If you can’t keep a promise, you might as well stoping over for dinner at the Mortons,” Alessia teased, a sly glimmer in her eyes.


    She’d been around at least a decade longer than York–and she’d learned a trick or two in that time.