Chapter Sixteen
That very evening Paige started in on another painting. She knew exactly what scene she wanted to capture: the one in which they had shared the sunrise out on the deck that morning.
She put the two lovers, her and Ian, standing at the railing, arms around each other as they gazed out at the tranquil sea, the sunrise opening the darkness with its pastel colors while a soft breeze seemed to whisper through their hair.
Again, she was slammed with a fist of melancholy, but she let the pain course through her, letting her feelings for Ian guide her hand over the canvas.
Just as she was dabbing her brush in the charcoal-gray, the front door slammed shut and the crash of glass hitting the floor and shattering raced to her ears. She jumped, her palette falling to the floor, pai
