Chapter 062

I open the messages first, and Natalie, my classmate from BYU, one of the very few people I talk to has sent me multiple messages since last night asking if I am okay. What is she talking about? I scroll up to the first message and it is a link to an article. I click on it with my heart in my throat.

By the time I finish reading it, I am shaking. I think I am more scarred by the intimate paintings of my mother than the implications of the article. In all three paintings, Kathryn is in different poses, utterly naked. Vulnerable and yet disturbingly beautiful. I can't wipe the images out of my head even if I tried. That was my mother. It is not exactly far- fetched from what I knew she was capable of, but to see evidence of it, so stark and shameless, it takes my breath away. The paintings are life-like. Detailed. And so disturbing, fucking hell.

The artist, Arthur Beau doesn't ring a bell for a short second before I am remembering an afternoon in Linc's office where he was turning me a