Chapter 620


    I removed the canvas from the easel because the painting from yesterday had almost driedpletely


    and was nearly finished. However, it still took me another two hours toplete the part Remington


    asked me to draw. And just as I was about to sign on my work, there was a knock on the door.


    “Come in.” I put down the brush, turned around, and took out the other painting I hadpleted but


    which I also had not signed. I was still debating where to ce my signature on both of my paintings.


    “Is this the project you’ve been working on?” Isabelle’s voice sounded.


    “Mom!” I turned around and looked at the outside of the door and was relieved when I did not notice


    Crystal’s presence. She is in good shape today. Looks like she’s been resting for some time and that


    she’s recovering. ”Yes, I’m working on this for Remington’s art exhibition. In the past few years, he has


    been the most influential young painter in the country. Since he rarely holds an art exhibition for


    himself, I can’t mess this up.”


    “It looks beautiful.” Isabelle walked over, gently ran her fingers across the canvas, and said softly,


    “You’ve always enjoyed drawing since you were a child. Just before important asions or major


    festivals, you would ask me to buy you a different paintbrush. Not only that, but you would also study


    some famous works and try to grasp the painters’ styles. At the time I thought it would be your short-


    lived interest, but who knew you would end up bing such a talented painter? I am really proud of


    you!”


    The pride in my heart suddenly rose beyond my control. I had been praised by many people before, but


    aside from Christopher, my mother’s acknowledgment had given me the most joy. I was even more


    delighted than when I attended Mr. Sawyer’s academic exchange.


    “It’s all because I’ve been well taught by you, Mom,” I humbly said.


    “I did not teach you any of this, you silly girl. This is the result of your own efforts. You are a wonderful


    youngdy and I am pleased to have you as my daughter.” Isabelle then approached me, gently tapped


    the back of my hand, and smiled. “You will be even more outstanding in the future.”


    “Thanks, Mom!” I replied with a smile.


    “Oh, there’s something I need you to help me with, but I’m not sure whether you are willing to,” Isabelle


    suddenly remarked.


    “What is it? You can just tell me, Mom. We are family. Do you still need to be polite with me?” I


    pretended to be angry and nced at Isabelle before simply saying, “What exactly do you want me to


    do? I’d be happier than ever if I could assist you with something.”


    Isabelle was hesitating as she looked at the two paintings. It was either that she did not want to say


    anything, or did not know how to ask. I then said, “You can just say it to me, Mom. Really, it’s fine.”


    Isabelle then sighed and said in all seriousness, “I hope that you will not attend the art exhibition this


    time and that you’d put Crystal’s name on both of these paintings.”


    Thud! The paintbrush in my hand fell on the floor. As I heard what she said, I unintentionally staggered


    backward and knocked over the paint on the table. I was too shocked. That painting, which resulted


    from my coboration with Remington, was instantly dyed with the spilled paint – it waspletely


    destroyed.


    I screamed and hurriedly tried to save the painting amid the chaos. Unfortunately, even the side I


    worked on was ruined by the paint. I stood motionless on the ground. After a while, I lifted my head with


    barely a smile and asked, “You’re kidding, right, Mom? Is it possible that I misheard what you said?”


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    “No, you heard it correctly. I’m sorry, Eve. I understand how difficult it is for you to do this, but I hope


    you will do it for me. You are very talented and can create many more of these paintings. All you need


    to know is that your inspiration and talent are unique and can never be stolen by others. Am I correct?”


    Isabelle did not hesitate when she said this. Her words shattered all of my illusions. I stood up and


    almost cried as I ced the ruined painting on the table. I was really disappointed in myself for feeling


    so wronged after only hearing one sentence of hers.


    Perhaps I felt so devastated simply because the person who said it was my mother.


    “If I turn down your request, will you be angry?”


    “Eve, I hope that you will agree.” Isabelle sounded firm. At this moment, she spoke like a boss talking


    to her subordinates, and I felt like I was being ordered to obey hermand.