Chapter 679

Herschel felt his eyes sting as he gazed at the painting.

A wave of sorrow crashed over him, leaving his chest tight, as if he could barely

breathe.

Someone nearby noticed and kindly steadied him. "Are you alright, sir?"

"I'm fine." Herschel forced the suffocating feeling down, burying it deep inside.

He managed a smile. "Thank you," he said to the stranger who'd helped him.

The person nodded, then wandered off with their companion to look at other pieces.

But Raymond's father, Weston Carmichael, lingered where he was, lost in thought while staring at the painting titled *Home*. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

When the exhibition ended, it was time for the grand art prize to be announced. Weston's eyes flickered as he thought of his son, but in the end, he decided to stay for the ceremony.

He joined the crowd as everyone filed into the gallery's main hall.

This part of the evening was for the awards. The place buzzed with anticipation. Herschel found a seat at random, settling in among the audience.

he glanced around, his gaze landed on someone in the front

sat there in a crisp white

at the sight of his back. "That rascal actually cleans up

was dressed, Herschel could tell tonight meant the world to

the paintings the visitors had voted for-and *Home* was

the title, a surge of excitement flashed in Herschel's eyes.

looks, as if he were some country bumpkin who'd

sat back

jury's turn to vote. One by one,

was his,

Nigel walked up to the stage,

face composed, but his eyes betrayed

Nigel turned to leave the stage. That's when he caught sight of a familiar face in the

he was seeing things-was

hated his painting, had made

world. What would he be doing at

hard, hoping to clear the illusion. But the

It was really him.

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