Alicia’s POV
Before I even saw my graduation piece, a sense of dread had already settled in my stomach.
The school was filled with Christine’s people; I couldn’t help but wonder if my artwork had already met an unfortunate fate.
My mind raced back to where I had hidden the pieces, praying that she hadn’t found them. But when I reached the spot where I’d stashed the paintings and found it empty, my heart sank.
Yet, a sliver of hope remained. That is, until I finally discovered the true location—my work had been shredded into pieces. I crumbled inside, immediately suspecting Christine.
I didn’t cry right away.
Instead, I stared at the wreckage. The charcoal sketches were torn apart, and the canvases slashed cleanly as if someone had wielded a knife, targeting the heart of each stroke. My graduation pieces—months of effort and dedication—now reduced to a pile of dust and damp cardboard. The room smelled of burnt varnish.
It felt like my brain simply… shut down.