Page 296 of Naughty Nelle

Shrink carefully pulls off the cloth, letting it slide to the floor. I gasp. It’s not a mirror. Before me is a large painting on an easel. A portrait of me holding Calla in my arms. Gallant’s last painting—the one he was working on in his studio. He must have completed it before the ball.

A rush of fresh tears cascades down my face as Gallant’s words from that extraordinary day float in my head. “You are meant to be painted.” All too sadly, My Prince will never paint me again.

“What do you think?” asks Shrink.

“It’s magnificent,” I choke.

“I’ve heard you’ve become quite an art critic.”

I wonder how she knows that.

“Tell me,” she continues, “what is the artist trying to communicate about the woman in the painting?”

My weeping eyes study the painting. I look closely at the woman’s radiant face and tender hands. A mirror might bare your face, but a work of art will bare your soul. My throat thickens.

“That she is warm and caring and loving,” I say slowly.

“I agree,” says Shrink. “Can you elaborate more on the relationship between the woman and the child?”

“The little girl is a bright light in the woman’s heart.” My words surprise me.

“Again, I agree with you.” Shrink smiles. “Now, can you infer from the painting how the artist feels about his subjects?”

My moist eyes stay glued on the painting. In the lower right corner, there’s an inscription, painted in red. Bleary-eyed, I move in closer to make out the words. I hear myself say them aloud. “Forever in my heart.”

The words echo in my head. Oh, my beautiful Prince, you will never leave me. I will love you forever. Yes, forever.

“Well, Jane,” says Shrink, with a hint of impatience, “I’m waiting for your answer.”

“I…believe…he…loves…them.” I squeeze out the word between sobs.

“Yes, he does,” says Shrink, using the present tense. Doesn’t she know Gallant is dead?

A too familiar chime sounds. Time’s up. Our session is over.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time,” says Shrink.

Tomorrow?They must be readmitting me. No more second chances! I’ll be here for the rest of my life. And never see Calla again!

“Where?” I sniffle. My brain is mush. I’m not thinking straight.

“At my first book signing. At some bookstore called Barons & Noble. I’ll be disappointed if you’re not there.”

What? I’m going back to the land of fairy tales? Before I can say anything, Shrink disappears behind the painting. She reappears, hiding something behind her back.

“I believe this is yours.” She hands me the object.

My mirrored locket! I slip it over my head.

There’s no time to thank her. At lightning speed, Shrink spins around me, creating a whirling dervish of fairy dust. Magically, I’m gone. Far, far away.

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