Once in the newly organized study, I found it much similar to his cabin in the office, and of course, decorated with my chosen furniture.
Except one thing.
A huge picture frame on the wall, covered with a white sheet. The same one I saw in this room during my last visit. I still remembered that blue diamond ring in her finger that was left unconcealed. But this time the sheet hid it whole.
I had the same question again. Whose picture was that?
Still securely clutching my hand in his, he stood before the picture. A soft sigh left him.
"Ace?" My voice came out as a whisper.
Rising his hand, he tugged at the sheet, letting it fall on the floor. My eyes widened slightly.
It wasn't a picture. It was a painting. Painting of his mother, Ophelia.
As graceful and sophisticated as ever, she stood there with her head held high and confidence sparkl
