Chapter 80

Shaun called every day, but kept their conversations short. When he stopped by, it was, as he put it, “To make sure you’re not forgetting to eat and sleep.” Ryan had pooh-poohed the idea.

“I have breakfast on my way down here, and Miss Gina scolds me until I go up for dinner.”

“And sleep?” Shaun asked.

“I do. Honest. Maybe not a full eight, but enough. Drawing and yawning don’t make a good combination.”

The Saturday before Christmas, Ryan laid everything out, going over them piece by piece. If they aren’t right, it’s too late to do anything about it, he reminded himself. There were small places on a couple of the drawings he wished he’d paid more attention to, but nothing that bothered him so much he wouldn’t take them, along with the others, to the gallery.

Gathering them up, he put them in his portfolio and took off to give them to Mr. Foster.

“Ryan,” Mr. Foster said, after studying the varying pieces, “you have surpassed even my expectations.”