She pulled the sketchbook into her lap. It was strange--the longer she looked at it, the more of Katie she saw in it, like by looking at this picture of someone she knew so well, she could see the person who drew him, too. "Are you sure?" Dani asked, looking away from the sketch for the first time and back up at Katie. "Oliver isn't the version I know, either. But he misses his Wanda like I miss my Pietro." Almost like. He hadn't lost his Wanda like she'd lost her Pietro.