Cassie leaned back from her easel, eyes fluttering shut as a sigh escaped her lips. Her studio apartment was bathed in the mellow afternoon light, but the real brilliance was on the canvas in front of her.
What had once been a story whispered by a ghost, a tragic tale of love, sacrifice, and unbearable guilt had become something tangible, eternal. Her brush strokes were bold but layered in meaning, each color purposeful, each shadow telling a truth too heavy for words.
The painting depicted a pair of siblings standing hand-in-hand beneath a willow tree. The girl Lina was painted with ethereal light, almost translucent, like she might drift off the canvas if one blinked. Her brother stood tall beside her, older and stronger, his figure grounded in earth tones.
Around them swirled darkness in the shape of fire, with ghostly arms reaching, a house half-collapsing in the distance. But in the middle, where their hands met, bloomed a single radiant lotus, symbolizing the peace and forgiveness Cassie had helped Lina find.
It wasn't just a portrait. It was a soul set free.
Cassie stared at the finished work, her eyes glossed with tears. It felt like closure. Not just for Lina and her brother but for her, too.
Wiping her hands on a rag, she snapped a few high-quality photos and packed up the canvas to take to her boss at the gallery. Her chest fluttered with nervous anticipation. She hadn't felt this proud of something in years.
"Holy hell, Cassie... This is breathtaking." Her boss, Marla Crane, stood back, arms folded, head tilting from one side to another as she absorbed the painting. "It's got a rawness to it. Something ancient, something... pure. This is nothing like your other works. What happened to you?"
Cassie chuckled nervously, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Just... inspiration struck."
Marla turned to her with wide eyes. "Struck? Girl, it came down like lightning. I want this in the center of the next showcase. No arguments."
A warmth bloomed in Cassie's chest. She'd come here expecting some vague compliment and maybe a critique, but this—this was validation.
"Thank you," she murmured. "Really."
Marla reached into her drawer and pulled out a check. Cassie's eyes widened at the amount.
"You earned it," Marla said. "Buy yourself a steak. Or a castle."
Cassie laughed, a real, full laugh she hadn't heard from herself in weeks.
With the check tucked securely in her purse, she walked down the street feeling lighter than air. It was rare for things to go well for her, almost suspiciously rare but she wasn't about to let that ruin the moment.
She passed a patisserie and smiled to herself. For once, she didn't have to choose between a single macaron or groceries for a week. Her stomach growled.
"You know what? I deserve a damn feast," she whispered, patting her purse. She pulled out her phone and searched for the fanciest restaurant nearby.
When she arrived at the tall glass building nestled in the heart of the city, she paused outside. The place looked expensive. Too expensive.
But for once, she didn't care.
She walked in, announced her name, and was shown to a quiet booth by the window. The scent of grilled meats, truffle oil, and freshly baked bread filled the air. Cassie rested her chin in her palm, watching the city below with a satisfied smile.
She sighed wistfully. "If only Janey were here," she murmured. "She'd cry tears of joy over that wine list."
A pang of longing hit her. Janey was still away caring for her mother. Things just weren't the same without her chaos and chatter.
Her reverie was interrupted by the click of heels.
"Oh my God. Cassie? Is that really you?"
Cassie looked up and froze.
Standing before her were two people who should've remained buried in her past.
Isabelle Lane. Elegant, poised, and dressed in designer everything. And beside her—Lucas White. The man who once swore he'd love Cassie forever.
Cassie's grip tightened around her fork. "Wow. What a surprise," she said coolly.
Isabelle's smile was too bright. Too fake. "We just happened to be in the area. Funny bumping into you here. I didn't know you could afford this place."
"Isabelle. Ryan." She let the names burn on her tongue. "Fancy seeing you two snakes slithering around here."
Isabelle tittered, clearly trying to keep the upper hand. "Don't be so dramatic, Cassie. It's been years. You look... well, you look like you've been through a lot."
Cassie tilted her head. "Well, betrayal does tend to age a girl. How's your conscience holding up, Ryan? Still playing the silent, spineless type?"
Ryan winced. "Cass, I never meant to..."
"Don't. Don't Cass me. You two did what you did. And guess what? I'm still standing."
Ryan shifted awkwardly, avoiding her eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something but lacked the spine.
Isabelle's smile twitched. "Still feisty, huh? I always said that fire of yours would get you into trouble."
Cassie leaned back. "And I always said your fake niceness was exhausting. Some things never change."
Ryan finally met her gaze, guilt etched across his features. "Cassie, I..."
"Don't," she cut him off. "Save it. You made your choices. Both of you."
Isabelle's smile turned brittle, she scoffed. "Still playing the victim? You always did love dramatics."
Cassie rolled her eyes.
"We just wanted to say hi. Didn't mean to... ruin your mood."
"Oh, but you did. Spectacularly. Still, it's impressive how you managed to look me in the face after stabbing me in the back. Must be all that yoga."
Cassie grabbed her purse and stood.
"Enjoy your meal. Or choke on it. Either works."
Cassie stood, picking up her purse. Her eyes gleamed with fury and pride.
"And you always did love what's mine. Too bad you never figured out how to keep it."
She turned and strode out of the restaurant, head held high. Behind her, Isabelle hissed something under her breath, and Ryan called out her name but Cassie didn't look back.
Outside, the night air was crisp and cool, like a fresh start.
And for the first time in a long while, she smiled without bitterness.