I knew Madeline was artistic. We'd spoken about her passion for painting plenty of times. I'd seen some of the photos of her painting early on. She showed me on her phone, including the ones she painted of me. Even when I saw one of the finished pieces in person, as impressed as I was, I imagined it was something that took her days, maybe weeks, to finish. There was so much delicate detail put into them it was hard to imagine her finishing one up in under a day much less in a few hours.
Just a week after our first almost breakup, we were out at one of her favorite places by the river. Madeline wanted to bring her easel and painting tools out to the abandoned pier I introduced her to, days ago. I thought we were there so she could demonstrate her skill as it happened. I'd begun to resort t
