Chapter 3
After four years in what had to be the most boring complex in all of Metro Atlanta, Dana was gradually starting to feel at home. Nothing had changed about the never-ending rows of identical tan brick buildings, or the fleet of last year’s trendy e-cars clogging the winding roads every morning and afternoon.
Between a steady income, feeling like an adult at last in her late twenties, and getting more comfortable in her own skin that she’d ever dreamed possible, Dana finally had a clear idea of who she was and how to create that in her own home.
The walls didn’t shift from a reclusive teenager’s dark primary colors to more girly pastel shades, but she did add coordinating rugs and matching towels in the kitchen and bathrooms. Actual framed photos and paintings replaced the colle
