One evening, Kritika found Anaya crying in the empty shop, clutching a rejection letter from an art fair. “We’re not even friends anymore,” Kritika said softly, handing her a sketchbook. Anaya flipped through it and gasped—Kritika had subtly drawn their journey from college to the shop, capturing every struggle and small triumph. It was a mirror of their bond. Anaya realized they’d both lost sight of why they started: to create something beautiful for others—and for themselves.