At sixty-one, he had wealth but no warmth, his mansion echoing with emptiness. One day, he noticed Lexi—fragile yet fierce—searching through trash. Something in her defiance moved him, and against instinct, he offered her a place in his garage-turned-guesthouse. Over shared meals, her story unfolded: once an artist, betrayed by a husband, left homeless and broken.
Their losses mirrored each other, binding them in quiet companionship. But everything shifted when he discovered the garage filled with grotesque portraits—bloody, distorted images of him. Feeling betrayed, he forced her to leave. Weeks later, silence broke with a package: a serene portrait of him, whole, with her number attached. He called. In trembling voices, they exchanged forgiveness—two wounded souls daring to rebuild something fragile, yet deeply real.
