Liora’s Pov
The studio was quiet. For weeks, all I could hear was the frantic scratch of his charcoal or the wet slide of his brush on canvas. But today, there was nothing. He was just standing there, looking at the final painting. It was huge. It dominated the far wall of the main studio. He had covered it with a sheet for days, not letting me see it until it was finished. He said this one was different. This one was the end.
"It's ready," he said. He didn't turn to look at me. He just stared at the shape under the sheet.
I walked toward him slowly. My heart was beating fast. I was scared to see it. After everything, after all the paintings he had done of me, I was scared to see this final one. This monumental piece he said would show the truth of me.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "I'm not
