Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

as he walked down the hallway. He did not call out.

I did not turn around when he entered the studio. I kept my gaze fixed on the canvas, where a wash of deep blue was beginning to take the shape of the river.

“Mother,” Julian said from the doorway. His voice was short, his tone evasive.

“The briefcase is on the sofa where you left it,” I said, my voice continue reading …