Hope?
Amelia Wright stared at the painting blankly, the red paint dot on her forehead made her seem like a character from the painting.
Robert Reed spoke with seriousness and depth in his voice: "These works in the room are hope, the paints in the palettes are hope, and your presence here today is hope."
Amelia Wright stood silently.
Robert Reed didn't try persuading her any further; he simply said, "You must be tired. If you want, you can rest over there while I complete the details of this painting."
Amelia Wright obediently went to the small sofa over there and lay down, curling up and closing her eyes.
There was no blanket in the studio, and Robert Reed didn't look for one; it wasn't cold anyway, so he simply covered Amelia Wright with a large canvas.
The smell from the canvas actually made Amelia Wright feel at ease.
Sleep, your teacher is here.
Amelia Wright fell asleep, and no oppressive nightmares came.
