I revised my guess a bit lower, maybe 17, 18? I was hoping for the latter, at least.“I’m from Boston,” I answered. “I had to fly down to catch...this cruise -- I’m guessing you drove down?”She nodded. “I did -- well, we did, actually my dad drove.”We chatted for a few minutes. I learned that she was here with her family, they had a couple of balcony cabins a few decks above mine. She then of course asked the question I was dreading.“Who are you here with?”I briefly considered lying, making up a. She liked my art, but she wasn’t critical of it. Melody? Artists know art. She could have seen that painting and decided to hide it so no one else would see into my soul. That was the best-case scenario. In her current state, if Kate had seen it and felt threatened by it, no one would ever see it again. No. Kate wasn’t malicious. She’d never do anything to intentionally hurt me. It’s beyond her to destroy artwork. But she’d become so competitive—comparing my sales numbers to hers. It’s like she. More

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