XVIII: You're Beautiful

Zayden's advice was logical. Reasonable, even. But Angela had her reasons as well. She hated burdening people with her personal problems, be they family-related or not. She loved sorting herself out all on her own, listening to her own heart and mind, not another person's.

Angela tilted her head at what she was doing. She had started from the bottom in knitting the sweater and had gone halfway, reaching the arm's length; that was where the problem brewed. The left arm she had knitted came out smaller than the right, and she groaned. If there was something she wasn't perfect at, it was crocheting. Not that she was bad at it, though—she could make a beautiful handbag.