The rain hasn’t stopped and the wind never failed at making the windows cause noise, I was still here and Dominic hasn’t said a word since he told me what he did, his words still echoed in my mind and my heart filled with questions.

Why didn’t I run away.

Why didn’t I yell at him.

All these portraits in the whole house, it was never him, it was his brother, in a twisted way, my heart ached for more, why did he kill him, why did they never photograph or paint Dominic, what happened ...