The man frowned, overwhelmed by the strong smell of alcohol on Stellan's breath.
"Mrs. Blackwood herself went to see it burned, right out in the back garden. I heard it going on through the whole night..."
That day, when Stellan had rushed to the garden, he had found only the piece Amaris had valued above all others: 'Fire's Kiss'.
Now, only its charred edges and half of her signature remained.
Curled up on the sofa, Stellan held that half-canvas he had managed to rescue from the gallery two days before.
Outside, the rain poured down in sheets, as if trying to wash away every trace of Amaris from the city.
Lost in a fog of alcohol, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, he caught a faint, familiar scent, her scent, woven through the damp air of the rainy night, wrapping around him s
