Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Chapter 15

She wandered through the exhibition, admiring Ines's creations-some were flat illustrations, others 3D models, a few so lifelike they could have drawn breath, and all sorts of imaginative merchandise lining the shelves.

Around her, students mingled in elaborate cosplay, their costumes transforming the crowded hall into a moving, vibrant tableau. The place was packed, buzzing with excitement.

Eventually, Jessica managed to squeeze her way through the throng and escape to the restroom. As she stepped back out, she caught sight of Timothy standing beside Ines.

"Mr. Lawson, I appreciate your investment in this national tour, but when it comes to taking on students, I only have two criteria: talent and spirit. I've reviewed Miss Howard's work, and, unfortunately, she doesn't meet my standards. I'm sorry."

So Ines was here at Timothy's invitation. And clearly, it was for Sheila's sake.

"Talent and spirit-those are rather vague, Ines. Could you be more specific?" Timothy pressed, still fighting for Sheila's chance.

Ines replied, "There's a piece in this exhibit that hasn't been revealed to the public yet. I'll be introducing it shortly. Take a look, and you'll understand what I mean by talent and spirit."

curiosity spiked. If Ines spoke so highly of it, the piece must be something extraordinary. She couldn't wait to see it for

returned to the main

ten minutes later, Ines reappeared,

still had so much room to grow, which meant limitless possibilities. As one of its leading figures, Ines had committed herself to nurturing and advancing the field, always pushing for both innovation and excellence. She dreamed

behind each featured artist's work. When it came to her own, she was just as candid, pointing out both strengths

an animation mentor-she embodied the true

thoughts drifted

grandmother who had taught her

lost her voice, her grandmother took her to countless doctors, desperate for a cure. Eventually, they heard of a physician who promised a miracle-if they could pay a staggering sum. For a traditional artisan, ten thousand dollars was unimaginable, but her grandmother worked herself to exhaustion, taking odd jobs wherever she could, day and night, until she finally managed to

after the first visit, money spent and hope in hand, he had vanished without

grandmother's hard-earned savings-gone. There was no chance for another treatment. The blow was too much; guilt and grief weighed