" A freedom she hadn’t felt in years pulled the image from her mind. Not just the loss of herself, but of them, the unit, the forever that would likely never be. Time continued to disappear. Finally, the last piece . . . a spark, barely visible to the eye. Despite all this picture was, there was no way she could paint anything of her and Ty without a glimmer of hope inside the sadness. "
― Tammy L. Gray , Until I Knew Myself (Bentwood #1)