Sage looked at Jace who had a shocked expression on his face, and said calmly, “Mr. Yuriel, please
don’t state the obvious.”
That was her painting!
What else did he not know about Sage?
Jace tried to swallow his emotions as Sage stared at him. Sage was a woman full of surprises. He
might look stupid if he continued to be in shock as he learned new things about her.
This was no normal painting. It was replica art, and it’s not something you tell everybody about.
Sage knew Jace was full of questions. She saw as he looked lovingly at the painting, as he touched it
carefully as though it was fragile to touch. She felt that he looked rather funny.
Sage opened her mouth, “It was a painting I did when I was younger, about 14 years old. I went to an
art gallery with my father. I fell in love with Mr. Dunford’s poetry. To me, this poetry signifies come what
may. We don’t have to be afraid even we are faced with the worst situations in life.”
“That was after you were kidnapped, right?” Jace asked as he realizes the both of them were there
when they were each at the lowest points of their lives.
Everything happens for a reason.
“Yeah,” Sage nodded.
Jace once again set his sights on the painting, still in disbelief, and asked again, “You painted this with
one visit to the art gallery?”
“Of course not! I’m not God, am I now?” Sage was dumbstruck by Jace. Even if she was blessed with a
photographic memory, it was just not possible to remember every detail. “My father loved this painting
very much. He wanted to purchase it right away, but the gallerist insisted that it was not for sale. He
agreed to lease it for three days. I replicated it for him seeing that he loved it so much… I was young at
that time and didn’t even understand a thing. I just copied everything there was. Turns out he liked it
and kept in his office until now,” Sage explained.
“You’re just being humble for saying that,” Jace complimented her.
Sage shook her head lightly, “If you meant that, then you’re still new to the antiquing scene. My art
teacher will give me an earful i f he sees this. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t paint anymore, my
hands are ruined forever.”
Jace narrowed his eyebrows and asked, “You mean those calluses on your fingers?”
Sage kept quiet.
She knew that in the art world, she had to keep her hands soft and delicate to feel the textures. Now
with the calluses grown on her fingers, she’s not able to feel and test the difference anymore.
Ever since discovering the truth about Sage’s identity, Jace had always wondered where she got the
calluses from.
Being the only daughter of a prestigious family, surely she was not needed in the farms or fields. How
did she manage to get her hands like that? The waiter served their dishes as Jace was about to ask
further questions. Jace kept the painting and hit pause on his curiosity.
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