“Don’t discredit yourself, Isla. Don’t you dare give up on your dreams. You deserve to do whatever is going to make you happy and I’ve seen your artwork. I believe in you.” She stares at me for a moment, her expression soft and her eyes growing wet, like this is something that no one has ever said to her. Does no one else believe in this fucking girl? She might not be August Whitley—hockey superstar—but that doesn’t mean a damn thing. She’s Isla fucking Whitley and she can do anything she puts her mind to.
