A child pointed at the half-blown flower. “Mama, why is that one sad?”
“You painted this,” Karin said slowly. “You forged the missing panel twenty years ago. And someone sold it as the real thing.” Tsubaki Rika Kitaoka Karin
“Teach me,” she said quietly. “Not to forge. To restore.” A child pointed at the half-blown flower
She unrolled the canvas. Karin’s breath caught. Tsubaki Rika Kitaoka Karin