Chapter 9 — The Shadow Behind the Frame
The elevator doors closed behind me, sealing off the dim glow of Damian’s private gallery.
But the image burned behind my eyelids—
my portrait, his unfinished self-portrait,
and the look in his eyes when he said, “Maybe that’s why I found you.”
Found me.
Not hired.
Not chose.
Found.
The word tangled in my mind as I walked home, the night air cool against my skin. Verrin City pulsed around me—cars humming, neon lights flickering, people moving with purpose. And yet, I felt strangely detached from everything except the echo of his voice.
By the time I stepped into my apartment, exhaustion should have flattened me.
Instead, I felt wired—alert—like every nerve had been peeled open.
I dropped my bag and turned on a single lamp. Warm yellow lig
