“And who am I, Will?” A sad laugh escapes my lips. “I’m not smart like you, and I’m not loving and kind like Ollie, and I’m not sporty like Samantha, and I’m not even an artist like I used to be. I’m—” My shoulders get squeezed under his palms. “Stop this right there. You’re not defined by what you do, Violet.” His eyes are incredulous as they alternate between mine. “It drives me crazy that you think that. You don’t have to do anything to be extraordinary. Just being you is enough. You’re enough.”
