The old Esperanza would have anted the comforting touch. The new Esperanza had learned to shy away from physical contact with others and keep to herself.

She still appreciated the near gesture.

But she was stuck on that thought. That not only was she an artist, but she was an artisan. She'd never even heard of that before. She touched her book carefully. All the notebooks she left behind too... All that art meant something.

Would continue to mean something.

"Can you teach me more?" Esperanza looked into Jill's eyes now, a fire in her own.