The painting hung quietly on the wall, but it pulled me in every time I passed by. It was the same piece Maximus had bid at the auction, the one my mother always admired.
At first, he had it delivered to my place at the Emerson Properties. But after I moved into his house, I decided to have it sent here instead.
It showed a lone dove flying against a dark, stormy sky. Its white feathers glowed against the swirling charcoal clouds. It looked fragile yet determined. The darkness around it felt heavy and almost suffocating, but the dove moved forward with purpose.
I stopped in front of it again and I cant help staring at it. The colors blurred as I remembered my mother’s soft but weak voice in the hospital.
Growing up, we were never really close. She was always busy, and I was always wi
