na's

f my studio, the positive pregnancy test lyi

ck to his office, throw the test on his desk,

ee it. To force him to

r his name. But then, I remembered the look on his f

'd see an asset. An heir. A

ck in the gilded cage I had just escaped, and this time, he

t be another one

not just saving myself an

le the papers, but can you put a two-week hold on t

," she said. "Are

I said, and

mmediately. I didn't tell him why, or that I wasn't coming back. He didn't

My sketchbooks. A few changes of clothes. The sig

ting a museum of a life that was never really mine. I walked to the

ll of pictures from the last four years. Me at his galas, his

cord of my

out and didn

residency coordinator, greeted me. She was warm and normal,

d our small charter

sleek private jet. They were laughing, heads close to

ying. It was the final, absolute confi

ched the San Francisco skyline, with the gleaming spire of O

hand on my

years, I felt a deep,