Coco sat at the small wooden table, her sketchbook open, and began to draw. As her pencil glided, the image that emerged was not a portrait of Kendra or Lila, but an intricate map of a heart—veins branching out like river tributaries, each leading to tiny islands labeled with words: trust, laughter, grief, hope . She felt the lines form under the pressure of her hand, as if the heart itself were dictating the route.