Chapter 15: The Orange

Constantine insisted I take the week off, and I didn’t argue. The nightmares had stopped, but the guilt? That lingered like a shadow I couldn’t shake. I thought I had processed everything, but every time I closed my eyes, the weight of it pressed down. So, I turned to painting again. It was the only thing that eased the pressure, even if just for a moment.

It started simple—a three-dimensional orange from a side profile. But as if something inside me snapped, the brush began to move on its own. Before I knew it, the painting morphed into a face, sharp and unfamiliar, dark and unsettling. I’d never painted anything like it before, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. There was something in this darkness that drew me in, a release I didn’t understand but craved.

Then, my phone rang, shattering the trance. I dropped the brush, hands trembling as I wiped them clean. "Hey, honey," Evan’s face lit up the screen.

"Hey," I forced a smile.

"Are you painting?" His voice was soft, curious.

"Yeah... si