He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 220

Sienna Sawyer looked at her with cool indifference, a hint of amusement playing in her eyes.

"You don't recognize me?"

Back when she lived with the Gauthier family, Seraphina Sterling had bullied her relentlessly. She had looked down on her from the bottom of her heart, her face contorting with disgust at the mere mention of her name.

"Of course I recognize you! You're the legendary K. I've been a huge fan of yours for so long, honestly!"

Seraphina's cheeks flushed with excitement as she gushed about her admiration. "Did you know? I have The Lithograph of your piece, The Astral Heavens, hanging in my bedroom. I look at it every night to help me fall asleep."

She babbled on and on, completely oblivious to the fact that the idol standing right in front of her maintained an icy detachment.

Sienna simply stared at her in silence. It seemed Seraphina truly didn't recognize who she was.

This very face, once etched with sheer disdain and contempt, was now radiating fanatical adoration for K.

How profoundly ironic.

If Seraphina merely respected talent, that would be one thing. But whether it was at Eleanor Gauthier's birthday gala or the art exhibition, Sienna had publicly showcased her painting skills before.

Yet, she had never received even an ounce of respect.

It proved that Seraphina was driven by nothing but pure, unadulterated prejudice.

As for the woman named Sienna Sawyer, she had been nothing more than an insignificant accessory to the Gauthier family. If she died, she died. And with her, every shred of her hard work and innate talent had been ruthlessly erased.

"Ms. K, could... could you sign this for me?" Seraphina finally finished her rambling, carefully offering up a sketchbook, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Sienna's gaze slid past her face and landed on the exquisitely crafted art book.

It was a collection of her earliest works.

Without a word, she took the pen and the book.

Seraphina held her breath, watching as that elegant hand gripped the pen. Only after the signature was etched onto the title page did she finally exhale in relief.

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