Amanda’s pov.
Madeline watches me complete her portrait while slowly stirring the cup of tea in her hand. It’s late in the afternoon now and other than the sound of her stereo belting out classical music and the sound of her spoon hitting her teacup nothing else disturbed the mellow aura that now hung over the room.
Her eyes are fixed on the easel, the silver one in particular seems to burn into the painting and intently follows each individual stroke of my brush.
It was terrifying to have her watch me, but unlike my first day here I actually managed to compose myself and not get tense at her very presence, it helped that I was mostly lost in my painting now.
I got here about three hours ago, after hesitantly scarfing down the breakfast Asher gave me, I wanted to play stubborn for as
