Chapter 49: A Painting for Mark

The canvas in Olivia's studio took on the soft glow of dawn, creeping down over it through the windows and casting long shadows across it. She stood before it, lost in the world of color and emotion, with a paintbrush in hand. She was lost in the world of emotion and color—a painting that had been consuming her for weeks. The strokes had become declarations of feelings so complicated for words alone. Olivia stood back, her eyes on the piece with a hyper-critical air. The canvas practically jumped out, full of warm tones—a splash of very deep reds, a blaze of bright oranges, merged with softer shades of pinks, and even gold. Centered, two abstract figures began to dance; their blending forms broke apart in a beautiful rhythm of chaos. "It's him," she mumbled to herself, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It's us." It was so different from anything she had ever painted before; in her earlier works, born of pain and uncertainty, this thing pulsed with life, hope, and lov