CHAPTER 653: CHAPTER 653: WHO IS THE PAINTING REALLY OF

Owen’s movements were quick. After lunch, he returned with the art supplies he had bought for Evelyn Clayton.

Evelyn Clayton, rarely interested, took a look around and found that the brands Owen had bought were not cheap, so she said she would reimburse him.

"I’ve reported to Director Grant, so he’ll reimburse me for the expenses, don’t worry." Owen was very courteous, encouraging Evelyn Clayton, "You can try them now, or you can go sketch in the garden. The weather is quite nice today!"

Evelyn Clayton’s brows twitched slightly, but she said nothing and went upstairs to unwrap her "gift."

Owen watched her back, and the worry in his eyes was faintly visible.

Auntie Liu noticed and said, "Dr. Sherman is very concerned about Miss Clayton."

"Sigh, I have a double degree from university, one of them in psychology." Owen frowned tightly, "I can feel that Miss Clayton is not in a good state. Being a doctor, I can’t help but worry a bit more."

Auntie Liu nodded and said nothing further.

Returning to her room, Evelyn Clayton slowly unwrapped the drawing board and began to stretch the canvas.

Whether by coincidence or some research Owen had done, the canvas he bought was pre-primed, not needing a second coating of alkyd resin, so Evelyn could use it once it was stretched.

She selected a full-sized canvas, and after stretching it, she turned her eyes to take a look at the weather outside.

The sky after the snow was indeed beautiful.

With the drawing board, Evelyn Clayton moved downstairs. Seeing her, Auntie Liu came over to help with the easel and paint box.

Upon reaching the backyard, Evelyn Clayton smelled the cold fragrance of winter sweet.

She sat blankly behind the canvas for a while before starting to paint.

Evelyn Clayton fixed her gaze as she wielded the paintbrush, using ochre to sketch out the outline of a figure on the canvas.

She painted an almost naked woman, draped in an ivory cloth, with long, black, beautiful hair cascading down to veil her hidden body parts.

The woman held a swaddled baby in her arms, reaching out to grasp her mother’s silky hair.

Evelyn Clayton finished the outline and began using a small brush to apply shadow hues.

Auntie Liu stayed by her side, curiously and intently observing the gradual formation of figures and background under Evelyn Clayton’s brush.

Initially curious, Auntie Liu thought Evelyn came out to paint a landscape, but was surprised to see a human subject.

However, by the end, Auntie Liu was somewhat taken aback.

Though she had never learned to paint, it was her first time watching someone paint, and the precision needed in oil painting gradually became clear to her.

Evelyn Clayton painted a mother holding a baby, enclosed within a birdcage that was cold and luxuriously golden, adorned with carvings of winter sweet flowers.

Finally, Evelyn Clayton stopped painting.

The work was only ten percent complete, the facial features of the woman still indistinct.

Yet only Evelyn Clayton herself knew whose face she thought of as she painted—

It was Charlotte Sterling’s.

At that moment, Evelyn Clayton experienced a fleeting clarity.

Looking at the oil paint gradually drying on the canvas, a sense of inexplicable panic swept over her heart.

"Miss Clayton, if you’re tired, why not go and rest?" Auntie Liu approached at the right moment, asking softly.

Evelyn Clayton’s eyes flickered, and after a long moment, she silently stood up and left, entering the villa through the back door.

Auntie Liu stood still, gazing at the half-finished canvas with a complex expression.

It was clearly just a rough draft, yet one could easily sense the artist’s struggle and anguish.

Was Miss Clayton painting herself, or someone else?

Was she the infant in the painting, or the mother?

Auntie Liu couldn’t quite understand.