Aaron looked at him, pain flickering in his eyes. "Master, do you not believe me either?"
"Jay, it's not that I don't believe you, it's just that the facts are right in front of us. I'm old, but not so far gone that I've lost my wits. Just be honest with everyone—how did that painting of yours come about?"
He answered seriously once more, "Master, that really is my painting. I painted what I imagined a beautiful baby would look like, and with that conviction I completed it."
"Heh."
Tiana Thorne laughed again.
Then she lightly arched a brow. "Mr. Jennings, since you were imagining how beautiful a baby could be, how did you end up rendering the mood of the painting so desolate?"
"Exactly. That painting made me see the hardship of life, whereas Mr. Castle's painting here is what true beauty looks like."
Aaron was still trying to argue his way out. "You just don't understand."
Tiana asked, "You mean just by imagining a beautiful baby, you produced this painting?"
