Adam flipped the pad open. On every page, he was met with elegant black and white portraits. Their tone and shading was masterful; each illustration a river of coordination and patience, resulting in a well-defined, naturalistic look that rendered the subject almost perfectly. He was drawn to the eyes every time; the same eyes, beautifully expressive and filled with wonder. The eyes of a child; a baby girl.
“These are—” he started.
“Alice,” Constantine nodded.
“They’re beautiful,” Adam conceded. “She’s beautiful.”
She’s“Madison told me once that she sees Alice, every night as she goes to sleep. I suppose, in that sense, no one is ever really lost to us, are they? They’re always there, when we close our eyes.”
really“I suppose so…” he replied, distantly. He felt an unexpected pang of g
