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“Hello Kitty is right there.” I pointed to a little white burning pile on the porch.

“Aha.”

The last painting was all white with only a small and a big hand merging fingers.

“A father and daughter bonding?” Bruce analyzed. “I think this is my favorite.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I like the simplicity. Holding hands and bonding holds such powerful healing; it’s the essence of what we do here.”

“Cia is planning to make six paintings in all.”

“Wonderful. When will the last be done?” Bruce asked.

“Before I leave.”

“Great; as I said, I would like to hang them in our dining room.”

I nodded, but the truth was that I would have liked to take the paintings with me. They were more personal than anything I’d ever painted before. But a promise was a promise, and I would just have to suck it up and be a big girl about it.