Third Person’s POV
Alger and Zelda held their hands naturally.
Their grip was lively and affectionate.
Adide noticed her own handholding with Lance–a stark contrast.
Their hands hung straight down, motionless, like two pieces of wood glued together.
She sighed inwardly. Lance reallycked romance.
<b>Hot </b>tain
Back at the ckthorn Pack, after seeing Prisci to her room, the couple headed to the study to check on the portraits.
One portrait was done and set aside.
12 eyes
Caldwell stood beside it, eyes red.
Lance and Adide stepped closer. The first painting was a little girl with twin buns, round cheeks, big almond eyes, a tiny nose, lips a bit full.
Next to it, another canvas was a couple whose eyes and brows echoed Caldwell’s–clearly his parents.
Craig kept sketching.
This time he worked on an adult face, guessing how the seven–year–old might look grown up.
On a nearby chair sat the finished version– still a round face, but less baby–fat, sharper lines, same features, yet the grown–up vibe was worlds apart from the child’s.
Craig’s new sheet showed a thinner version–no one knew what life had done to her–still half–done.
“How’s it going? Does it match your memory?” Lance asked Caldwell.
“It does, it really does. Craig’s amazing,” Caldwell said hoarsely.
“How many versions are we making?” Adide asked.
“As many as possible. Different body types–fat, average, thin–and everything in between,” Craig replied without looking up.
Adide watched Craig flick his wrist–two quick strokes and the brows were done.
Softer now, not the thick ck arches of a kid. Grown–ups trim them, and kids usually start out darker.
“Caldwell, what’s your sister’s name?” Adide asked.
“Poly Kirk,” Caldwell replied softly, adding, “Our grandfather chose the name for both of us.”
Adide thought the girl in the portrait was adorable, with eyes like polished onyx.
<b>1/2 </b>
<b>10:38 </b><b>Mon</b><b>, </b>11 <b>Aug </b>O
She then watched Craig’s ongoing work.
As the brush moved, a strange sense of familiarity struck her.
But when she nced back at the finished adult portrait, the feeling vanished.
Craig looked up. “You two can go now. This will take time. We might end up with twenty versions<b>. </b>
Lance stared at the adult portrait on the chair, lost in thought.
It reminded him of Aire, Adide’s mother.
Not the Aire he’d seen before heading south, but the woman he’d glimpsed years earlier–back when <b>he </b>was just anky teen.
Hee..
Back then, Aire’s face was round and soft, her smile gentle.
“Let’s go,” Adide tugged at his sleeve.
Lance looked down at her. “Adide, doesn’t she resemble someone?”
“Who?” Adide asked, seeing nothing familiar.
Lance quickly changed the subject. “Never mind. Let’s not disturb them.”
As they left, Lance recalled visiting the ckthorn Pack with Lycan Erasmus as a child.
Back then, Luna Aire was still young. Adide hadn’t yet been shipped off to Warscar Camp–she was <b>a </b>rosy, chubby kid, cute as a button.
Six big brothers ahead of her, the only daughter, she got all the love.
yful, bouncy, equal parts sweet and sassy.
The kid in Poly’s portrait didn’t look like little Adide. Adide had been the prettier one by far.
The grown–up portrait on the chair, though, looked a lot like Aire back then–<i>just </i>a few years older, of
course.
Lance kept that thought to himself. No need to make Adide think of her lost family.
day, e
Lance thought the rain had stopped and the day was still young. He was about <i>to </i>ask Adide if she wanted to head to Yellowstone, but she was already telling Beata, “I’m going to the ounts room–have Avery meet me there.”
Lance swallowed his question and switched tracks. “What do you need Avery for?”
Adide answered, “It’s about Paige and Georgina. They’re refusing pay, saying they’re staying with Melinda to make amends. But Dwight’s mess shouldn’t leave them unpaid, and they’re tight on money. <b>We </b>can’t owe them–every cent is due.”
“Got it,” Lance said. “I’ll wait for you in our room.”