Chapter 43 I don't want to die

Elara’s POV, 

“When did you paint this?”

I hear him stand up from his stool and feel him stand behind me. His presence unknowingly overwhelms me. 

“After the night of the gala.”

I look back at the canvas and twist my lips. 

There’s a hand.

Not a human one, not entirely. It’s large and suspende...

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