GALLAHAN’S POV
Willa looked the same, and yet she didn’t.
Her eyes stared blankly at me, and somehow, despite my fading memory of her, I knew I got the wrong shade of green.
The woman I painted looked just like her, and yet I was certain it wasn’t her. She wasn’t the Willa I had met all those years ago.
Or was she?
I couldn’t be too sure anymore. My memory of Willa was slowly slipping into the farthest, darkest and unreachable crevice of my mind. And much to my growing frustration, it was getting worse with every day that flowed by.
It started more or less five years ago, and I had simply brushed it off. But if I had known it would get this bad, I would’ve asked Zuleika or Maliya to preserve each and every frame of my memory of Willa. From the moment I first laid eyes on her in the F
