A few minutes later, Jessica heard the sound of Henry leaving with Secretary Allen.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to dispel the heaviness pressing against her chest.
Mabel stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, raising her hand several times as if to knock and offer Jessica some comfort, but in the end, she let her hand fall.
It seemed that nothing she could say would make a difference.
The next morning, Jessica set out with her finished piece and headed to a framing shop.
After picking out a frame, she pulled her artwork from her tote and typed a message on her phone, asking the owner to mount it for her.
When the shop owner saw Jessica's work, his eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait—this is made out of paper?"
Jessica smiled and nodded.
"You did this yourself?"
She nodded again.
The shop owner studied the piece in awe. "This is incredible. I've never seen papercutting with such realistic, dimensional detail."
Jessica's piece was inspired by a medieval lady—her flowing gown and delicate features rendered in intricate layers. The Wheelers' home, after all, was decorated in a style reminiscent of Renaissance elegance.
The owner admired the work so much, he insisted on doing the framing himself. Once it was set in the frame, it was almost hard to believe Jessica had fashioned it from paper—the likeness was so vivid, it seemed the lady's eyes might blink if you looked long enough.
"Miss, is this piece for sale? I have a client who's a devotee of Renaissance art and traditional crafts. Even though you just made this, it's a testament to classic technique—I'm sure he'd love it."
The Wheeler family wasn't just any family; Jessica couldn't risk picking a mediocre frame for them. She'd chosen this shop precisely because it was one of the most exclusive on the antiques street, catering to a discerning clientele.
Jessica typed her reply: This one was commissioned. It's not for sale.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Goodbye, Mr. Regret