Mr. Burzinski chuckled, this time more warmly. There was something so wonderful about seeing and hearing a person who typically held their cards close to their chest open up, and she hoped she’d hear him laugh again. It was like that with Nonna, too, the joy of putting the first bit of color on a white canvas. Even Emma was that way, a part of this small group of guarded people who had a wonderful heart desperate to get some air.
