The studio

St

rtificial and sharp, the other organic and sour, swirled together in the

e in one hand and a brush in the other. On the easel before him was a canvas nearly complete: the portrait

ession on the canvas. "You're pe

mchair. Rigor mortis had long passed, but he'd preserved her well enough. Her head slumped slightly to the side, skin pale and w

worry," he said softly. "The gallery show is nex