ADRIANA'S POV
It was already getting to late evening, and I found myself in the art studio that Vincenzo had shown me what felt like ages ago.
He had left me the key on that day, and maybe it was to show how serious he was about trying to help me, and now, when I looked around, I felt myself drawn to that one painting of his mum, my legs naturally finding their way to it.
I stared long and hard at it, trying to form a full picture of it in my head, to grasp the person who was the muse of this art but I couldn't. Slowly, I reached a hand to touch it but then I quickly retracted my hand, knowing that I probably shouldn't. Vincenzo wouldn't want that.
With a small smile to myself, I wandered about the room, checking the other paintings like this was the first time I was here when I had been here a couple of times to ease my mind. It never got old here.
