Chapter 288. Disaster

The artist had a skill for painting faces that looked just like real people but still not like them at the same time. However, if you knew, you knew. He was slouched against a wall, eyes wide and lifeless, and Fiona was a little glad that his body was intact in the painting. Not chopped to pieces, not decapitated, not dismembered, only clutching at his chest.

“I have answered all your questions, have I not?” Amanda was still trying to calm a suspicious Carlos down. “The woman in the painting is me.”

After Carlos had confronted the woman with a few suspicions he had about her, Amanda had come clean to Carlos, telling him that she was a child of Estrella and that the painting had been done by her mother, who was, in fact, still alive.

“You must not tell anyone about this,” she had told Carlos afterward, and Carlos had nodded, but it was clear to Fiona that he did not believe her entirely, especially when he had pulled her to the side after the woman had left an told