Tk and rhyme

Previously

…Walking home, the sketchbook felt like a treasure. But as I imagined Rhyme opening it, the familiar worry crept back. What if my painting wasn't good enough? What if Rhyme’s eyes didn't light up the way I hoped they would? What if this whole surprise was a terrible gamble, and I ended up losing more than I could afford? The thought made my heart ache. Maybe, just maybe, this was a mistake. Maybe I should just give Rhyme a regular gift, a safe gift. But the thought of a safe gift felt so… un-Rhyme. And un-me. I clutched the sketchbook tighter, a silent promise to myself to try, no matter how scared I felt.