The painting showed my deceased daughter\u2019s face.<\/p>\n
It was not a face simply similar to my Mila\u2019s. It was not a teenager who made me think of her just because I had looked for too many minutes and missed her terribly.<\/p>\n
It genuinely was Mila.<\/p>\n
She possessed Mila\u2019s golden eyes and Mila\u2019s hair pushed gently behind a single ear. She even possessed the small berry-shaped spot right beneath her chin that I would kiss back when she was tiny and running a temperature.<\/p>\n
Directly below the painting, resting on a tiny metal plate, sat a couple of words that caused the entire space to spin.<\/p>\n
\u201cSelf-Portrait.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had not listened to Mila\u2019s giggle for a solid three years and a couple of months. I remembered the exact timeframe because sorrow had made me obsessed with counting.<\/p>\n
Right at that moment, my sister, Nora, pressed a plastic glass of dark wine into my palm and stated, \u201cI beg you, Aria, attempt to stare at something other than the door.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am observing,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are staring angrily at a sculpture.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt appears like a deformed bread warmer.\u201d<\/p>\n
She practically grinned.<\/p>\n
The teenage creative exhibition was completely her suggestion. It took place inside a city center gallery, it highlighted neighborhood teens, and walking in was completely free.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo stress at all,\u201d she swore to me.<\/p>\n
That lack of stress disappeared the very moment I strolled into the \u201cRising Stars\u201d area and noticed Mila looking directly at me from a blank wall.<\/p>\n
The glass fell right out of my grip.<\/p>\n
\u201cAria?\u201d Nora questioned. \u201cWhat in the world is going on?\u201d<\/p>\n
I marched straight toward the painting.<\/p>\n
A random person warned, \u201cMiss, kindly avoid touching the painting.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did not pause at all.<\/p>\n
The teenager in the painting sported Mila\u2019s mustard-colored sweater. She displayed a tiny grin as if she were prepared to drop a smart remark.<\/p>\n
I moved nearer and examined the small sign one more time.<\/p>\n
\u201cSelf-Portrait: Isla, 15.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cImpossible,\u201d I muttered. \u201cAbsolutely not.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nora caught up to my side. \u201cAria.\u201d<\/p>\n
I spun toward the lady holding a writing board. \u201cPardon me, who painted this?\u201d<\/p>\n
She blinked rapidly. \u201cMiss?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho painted my little girl?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her expression shifted. \u201cThis remains a youth exhibition, miss.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy little girl passed away three years back,\u201d I stated, raising my volume enough to make strangers spin around. \u201cThose are her exact features. That is her specific mark. So why exactly does that sign declare it a self-portrait?\u201d<\/p>\n
The lady shifted her gaze between my face and the painting. \u201cMy name is Ruby, the event manager. The artist is wandering around this building somewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen guide me over to her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nora grabbed my arm. \u201cAria, calm yourself down.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNegative.\u201d I yanked my arm away. \u201cIsla painted Mila upon that wall, and I require the explanation why.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ruby\u2019s eyebrows raised a tiny bit. \u201cYou are acquainted with Isla?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCorrect. Well, I know about her existence,\u201d I clarified. \u201cMy little girl mentioned her following weekend stays at her father\u2019s place. I was aware Mateo possessed a stepdaughter. I had absolutely no clue she possessed the skill to paint my kid strictly from memory.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had bumped into Isla on a few occasions, even though Sofia had completely banned her from visiting our residence.<\/p>\n
Ruby gave a cautious nod and guided the two of us down a narrow corridor.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Isla utilize a picture?\u201d I questioned.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am unable to provide that detail,\u201d Ruby replied. \u201cThe students hand in their personal artist statements.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen she is able to clarify the situation herself.\u201d<\/p>\n
We halted right outside a tiny space where a young teen stood near a desk full of identity tags, picking dried paint off her clothing.<\/p>\n
Ruby lowered her volume. \u201cIsla?\u201d<\/p>\n
The young girl spun around.<\/p>\n
For a brief moment, my sorrow made her look blurry.<\/p>\n
Then I noticed the dark waves and the stiff way she held her body.<\/p>\n
It truly was Isla, Mateo\u2019s stepdaughter.<\/p>\n
She was Mila\u2019s personal \u201cSupernova.\u201d<\/p>\n
She was much taller nowadays. Absolutely nothing regarding her physical features looked like Mila\u2019s.<\/p>\n
However, the painting certainly did.<\/p>\n
Every single inch of it was a match.<\/p>\n
Isla noticed me and lost all color. \u201cYou are Mila\u2019s mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you happen to be Isla,\u201d I replied. \u201cMila shared plenty of tales with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes grew wet. \u201cShe spoke regarding me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cConstantly, sweetie,\u201d I responded. \u201cYet not in this manner. I had no idea the two of you were so bonded.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla glanced toward the gallery as if she desperately wished to sprint away.<\/p>\n
I moved closer. \u201cWhy did you paint my little girl and label it your self-portrait, Isla?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her hands squeezed tightly around her sleeves. \u201cBecause she acted like my sister as well.\u201d<\/p>\n
Those specific words struck way heavier than I anticipated.<\/p>\n
I was aware Mila cared for her. She returned home chatting about \u201cSupernova,\u201d the silly tracks they created, and the afternoon they dumped sparkles inside Sofia\u2019s hair wash.<\/p>\n
Yet a sister?<\/p>\n
Mila had never stated it that clearly.<\/p>\n
Perhaps she feared it would break my heart.<\/p>\n
Isla rubbed her cheek using her sleeve. \u201cEven if nobody wished for us to admit it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAria,\u201d my sibling murmured quietly.<\/p>\n
I raised a palm in the air. \u201cNora, I must figure this whole thing out.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at Isla. \u201cWho refused to let you say it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla gulped heavily. \u201cMy mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSofia refused to let you two grow close?\u201d<\/p>\n
She gave a nod.<\/p>\n
My gut clenched hard. \u201cFor what reason?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe claimed it made situations messy. She claimed Mila already possessed a mother, and I already possessed one, and Dad required zero additional household issues. She claimed I did not require a sister. I was supposed to be plenty all on my own for Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced back at the gallery, straight at the unbelievable painting. \u201cThat fact still fails to clarify how you nailed every single detail.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI remembered her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat flawlessly?\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla\u2019s lower jaw quivered. \u201cI cared for her deeply, Aunt Aria. She meant the world to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I squeezed the handle of my handbag tightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIsla,\u201d I spoke softly. \u201cWho commanded you to hide this reality from me?\u201d<\/p>\n
The teenager rubbed her cheeks with both sleeves. \u201cI never intended to cause you pain.\u201d<\/p>\n
I softened my tone simply because she remained a child. Older than Mila had been, naturally, but still youthful enough to appear frightened of every single grown-up inside that space.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am aware of that,\u201d I stated. \u201cYet I must understand why nobody informed me that you and Mila shared such a bond.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla parted her lips, yet a different voice behind our backs responded first.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause the situation was messy.\u201d<\/p>\n
I spun around.<\/p>\n
Sofia lingered in the doorway. Her cream jacket looked crisp, and her grin appeared freezing.<\/p>\n
Isla froze completely.<\/p>\n
That reaction provided me more information than any verbal excuse ever could.<\/p>\n
Sofia stared at her daughter. \u201cSweetie, you were instructed to remain close to your display.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI actually was,\u201d Isla replied quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIncorrect. You were creating a public scene.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shifted my body slightly to block Isla. \u201cShe absolutely was not. I was the one questioning about the painting.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia\u2019s gaze shifted directly to my face. \u201cAria, I apologize. This must feel disturbing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo not label my child\u2019s face disturbing as if it were a spilled wine.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nora tapped my elbow. \u201cAria.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am perfectly okay,\u201d I stated, even though I was not. I pointed straight at the gallery. \u201cWhy did you demand that painting hidden beneath a fake title? Isla possesses great talent. You ought to have informed me that my child was her subject.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia\u2019s jaw locked tight. \u201cIsla has been grieving through unhealthy habits. Her therapist suggested art, not a public drama.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla raised her head up. \u201cDr. Barrow claimed I ought to share the honest facts regarding my sister.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIsla,\u201d Sofia warned her.<\/p>\n
\u201cNegative, Mom.\u201d Her voice shook, yet she pushed forward. \u201cYou demanded me to name it \u2018Girl in Yellow\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at Sofia. \u201cFor what reason?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSimply because not every detail belongs out in front of strangers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy daughter\u2019s name belongs everywhere people loved her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was just protecting Isla.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou took the photographs down,\u201d Isla whispered softly.<\/p>\n
The entire room fell completely quiet.<\/p>\n
I spun toward her carefully. \u201cWhat exact pictures, sweetie?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe ones at home. Mila\u2019s school photo. Our lake picture. Our picnic picture holding Olive, the cat.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia snapped. \u201cEnough.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla winced.<\/p>\n
I faced Sofia fully. \u201cDo not snap at her for telling the truth. Where exactly is Mateo?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia gave a careless shrug and then looked away.<\/p>\n
I pulled out my phone and dialed my ex-husband.<\/p>\n
He answered on the fourth ring. \u201cAria?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you currently at the gallery?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am parking. Why? Why are you there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe need to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
I looked at the painting through the open doorway. \u201cI found Mila.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was total silence.<\/p>\n
Then he spoke softly, \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
I hung up.<\/p>\n
Five minutes later, Mateo appeared.<\/p>\n
He noticed Isla crying. Then he noticed the painting.<\/p>\n
\u201cMila,\u201d he spoke. \u201cMy baby.\u201d<\/p>\n
I faced him directly. \u201cDid you know about this? Did you know Sofia demanded it be renamed?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mateo shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was erasing Mila again. And you permitted it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia stepped closer. \u201cI was definitely not erasing your daughter. I was simply stopping my daughter from living in Mila\u2019s shadow.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla\u2019s voice cracked. \u201cI never existed in her shadow, Mom. I absolutely never did. I was with her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mateo stared at Isla like he had missed an entire language she had been speaking for years.<\/p>\n
Ruby appeared in the doorway. \u201cIsla, your artist talk starts in exactly ten minutes. Do you need a moment?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I stated, right before Sofia could answer. \u201cWe all do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Outside, the cold air hit my face, and I could finally breathe.<\/p>\n
Isla stood beside the wall, hugging herself.<\/p>\n
I turned to Mateo. \u201cDid you let Sofia pack away Mila\u2019s belongings?\u201d<\/p>\n
His mouth opened, then closed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnswer me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d he stated. \u201cI thought it would help everyone move on.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. It helped you stop feeling guilty.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla pulled a folded paper from her dress pocket.<\/p>\n
\u201cI kept this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia lost all her color. \u201cIsla.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet her speak,\u201d I demanded.<\/p>\n
Isla handed it over to me.<\/p>\n
There was pink marker on the paper and crooked stars in the corners.<\/p>\n
\u201cSupernova, come to my birthday or I will be offended forever. Love, Mila.\u201d<\/p>\n
My hands shook. \u201cThis was Mila\u2019s last birthday.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla nodded. \u201cI never came.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered Mila waiting by the window holding a paper crown.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe Isla is busy,\u201d I had mentioned.<\/p>\n
Mila had shrugged way too hard. \u201cIt is fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
It genuinely had not been fine.<\/p>\n
I stared right at Sofia. \u201cYou hid this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia\u2019s voice remained thin. \u201cIsla and I had plans.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I definitely did not,\u201d Isla fired back. \u201cYou told me Mila did not really want me there.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mateo spun around. \u201cYou told me Aria changed the date.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia looked completely cornered. \u201cThe girls were too attached. Every time Mila came over, Isla forgot where she belonged. And Mateo forgot that Isla was his stepdaughter.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla stepped back.<\/p>\n
I moved beside her. \u201cShe belonged with people who loved her.\u201d<\/p>\n
The side door opened. Ruby leaned out. \u201cIsla? We are announcing you now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla wiped her face.<\/p>\n
Sofia stated, \u201cYou don\u2019t have to do this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla stared at the invitation in my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d she replied. \u201cI do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia turned sharply. \u201cYou are not speaking tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla looked at me, next at Mateo. Her hands trembled, yet her chin lifted.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I am.\u201d<\/p>\n
We walked right back into the gallery as Ruby stepped to the front.<\/p>\n
\u201cOur next artist is Isla,\u201d she announced carefully.<\/p>\n
Isla stood beside the painting. Sofia lingered by the wall, stiff with anger. Mateo stood right beside me, pale and silent. Nora squeezed my hand tightly.<\/p>\n
Isla faced the room.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy painting is called Self-Portrait,\u201d she began. \u201cI know it doesn\u2019t look like me at all. Mila was my stepsister. She died exactly three years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
The gallery went quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cPeople told me to be myself again after she died,\u201d Isla stated. \u201cBut Mila was part of who I was. She called me Supernova when I felt small. She made me brave before I knew how to be.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia murmured softly, \u201cIsla, stop.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ruby stepped directly in front of her. \u201cLet her finish.\u201d<\/p>\n
Isla wiped her face. \u201cSome people wanted me to stop saying Mila\u2019s name because it made them uncomfortable. But grief is not bad manners. I painted her because loving her changed me. Losing her changed me too. This painting is the part of me named Mila.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia moved like she might pull Isla away, but Ruby lifted a hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Ruby stated calmly. \u201cIsla told us what this painting means. The title stays with her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sofia looked around, waiting for someone to rescue her from the silence.<\/p>\n
No one did.<\/p>\n
Then the room started clapping.<\/p>\n
Isla broke right then, and I went to her.<\/p>\n
\u201cMay I?\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded, and I hugged her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am sorry I missed her party,\u201d she sobbed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were a child,\u201d I whispered. \u201cThe adults were supposed to be braver and smarter. And kinder.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mateo\u2019s voice cracked behind me. \u201cI let Sofia make Mila smaller because I was too much of a coward to argue in my own house.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I replied. \u201cSo start fixing what can still be fixed.\u201d<\/p>\n
That night, Ruby changed the label to \u201cThe Part of Me Named Mila: Isla, 15.\u201d<\/p>\n
A week later, Mateo brought Mila\u2019s boxes over. There were drawings, photos, and a bracelet with M + I in tiny beads.<\/p>\n
Isla touched one photo. \u201cShe laughed right after this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI slipped in mud.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMila laughed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen she fell on purpose so I wouldn\u2019t feel dumb.\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled through tears. \u201cThat sounds like her.\u201d<\/p>\n
The following Sunday, I took Isla to Mila\u2019s grave.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am scared I will forget her voice,\u201d Isla mentioned.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen I will tell you stories until neither of us forgets.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I tell you mine too?\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
I had walked into that gallery thinking someone had stolen my daughter\u2019s face. Instead, I found the girl who had been carrying Mila\u2019s name in silence.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The painting showed my deceased daughter\u2019s face. It was not a face simply similar to my Mila\u2019s. It was not a teenager who made me think of her just because I had looked for too many minutes and missed her terribly. It genuinely was Mila. She possessed Mila\u2019s golden eyes and Mila\u2019s hair pushed gently […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"fifu_image_url":"","fifu_image_alt":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2659","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news"],"views":155,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2659","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2659"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2659\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2660,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2659\/revisions\/2660"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2659"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2659"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2659"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}