She tapped on the door. A lady, in her mid fifties, opened the door for her. She was fair, bright, and definitely belonged to the list of the most noticed women of her age.
“Come on in!” she invited her.
“You sent for me. I had decided against this, but still, here I am. I don’t know what more is left unsaid.”
“Many things, darling. Many things. Tea?”
“Sure.”
The woman walked over to the kitchen and was back with two hot cups of tea in a few minutes. They settled on the couch, and she became ready for whatever was for her that she had to listen to. The woman started the conversation.
“I have seen him sad for years when his dad passed away, and just when he was getting over it, he met you. And as you came into his life, you brought his smile back. He is a good man. And being his mother, I know him better than you do. He loves you. And I know that you love him too.”
“Not anymore. Not after knowing what he is.”
“Whom are you fooling kid? I know both of you. You still love him, don’t you? Say it on my face that you don’t!”
“It doesn’t matter, ma. It’s over! I saw him trading the duplicate for a huge sum of money. I saw it with my own eyes. I saw him take the money. What else can be a feasible explanation? Please don’t defend him just because he is your son. He has done something illegal. And you, knowing it, should be talking to him right now, bringing him out of the gutter. Instead, you try to convince me that he is innocent. This is great!” she said sarcastically, with tears welled up in her eyes.
The woman abruptly stood up, walked inside and came back with a painting, covered with satin sheets. She gently pulled the cloth to expose the painting. It was the portrait of a girl. She was flawlessly beautiful, and so was her portrait.
“Who is she?”
“She is the truth, my dear. She is the answer to all your questions. She is the key to his innocence.”
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