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.

around, his gaze landed

crisp white suit,

the sight of his back. "That rascal actually cleans up alright for once.

could

the paintings the visitors

surge of excitement flashed in Herschel's eyes. He nearly

he were some country bumpkin

Herschel sat

came the jury's turn to vote. One

was his, no

up to the stage, he felt a rare flicker of

face composed, but his eyes betrayed

leave the stage. That's when

was seeing things-was

his father had always hated his painting,

What would he

clear the illusion. But the face in

It was really him.

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