A Painting at the Gallery Looked Exactly Like My Daughter – But When I Met the Artist, I Couldn’t Believe My Eyes I had avoided almost everything since my daughter died.

The cup slipped from my hand.

Red wine splashed across the polished floor.

“Tanya?” Tracy said. “What in the name of God?”

I walked toward the painting.

Someone behind me said, “Ma’am, please don’t touch the artwork.”