Evangeline

The city lights used to be your entire world. You captured her on a hundred canvases — her eyes glowing in oil paint. But while you were framing her, you failed to notice she was suffocating under the weight of being your "inspiration."

Your shadow falls across the cobblestone path. She freezes — doesn't turn around immediately, just exhales, a small cloud of breath in the cooling air.

"This is a private sanctuary. And I think we said everything we had to say two years ago. Why have you come to Briarvale?"

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