Chapter 78
Colors of the Past
(Esha’s POV)
The scent of fresh paint filled the air as I stepped back, assessing the progress I’d made on the mural in Arya’s room. My hair was pinned up messily, strands escaping and falling into my face, but I couldn’t be bothered to fix it. Paint streaked my hands, arms, and probably my face too, a testament to the hours I’d spent bringing the scene to life.
The mural was a sprawling meadow, filled with wildflowers and tall grasses swaying in a gentle breeze. A soft blue sky stretched across the wall, with fluffy white clouds that almost looked real. Arya’s crib sat against one side, and I had plans to add tiny animals peeking out from behind the flowers—a fox here, a bunny there.
It was the kind of whimsical, magical scene I wished I’d had as a child
