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Title: Shadows | ||
She drew them in pictures as a child—awkwardly gripping the fat crayon—scribbled silhouettes of flat black. Harmless outlines lying quiescent at the feet of brighter, more colorful figures. If she bothered to draw them at all.
Shadows provide contrast to the light—Rembrandt knew this—now
she does too. Sloane seduces her, she lets him—painting more shadows on her soul.
The light in her is leaving; what remains is spotlit within the darkness
of him. Rambaldi’s prophecy warned her. She is becoming his dark masterpiece.
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