MYKEL
“How did your mother respond to this?” My father’s eyes glittered with unshed tears as he smiled at me.
“She’s one of the reasons why I’m doing this.” I smiled back as I recalled Mom saying to give my father one last chance.
“Thank you. And the baby—”
“I know. You did great, Dru.” I gripped his shoulder.
“Thanks, son.” He slapped my shoulder. “Thank you.”
“I got to go and check on Adley.”
I found her standing in front of a massive painting with a Champagne in her grip with her serious look, scrutinizing it.
“Do you like that?” I wrapped my arm around her waist.
“Intrigue.”
The more I looked at the painting, the longer it became a familiar face. It was like an illusion. I was not an art connoisseur, but the techniques and the details made sense. “Do you
