Gemotions

The painting, a vibrant landscape he'd always admired, was gone from the studio wall. A postcard, addressed to "My Favorite Student," lay on the easel. It showed a distant, snow-capped mountain range, with a single, handwritten sentence: "The journey begins. – Madame Evangeline." Her sudden exit left a void.

She inhaled deeply, the scent of turpentine and oil paints filling her lungs. Her fingers ached to hold a brush. She knew, deep down, that Evangeline was an incredibly private person. And she knew she would want her to carry on with the work.

She moved to the blank canvas, a surge of inspiration bubbling within her. She grabbed her palette, and with a confident stroke, she began to paint.