“The ones of me in the garage,” I pressed. “Chains, blood, a coffin. Is that how you see me?”
Her face went pale. “I never meant for you to see those,” she said, panic flickering in her eyes. “They’re not about you personally. I was angry, feeling powerless. You became a symbol.”
“A symbol?” I echoed, incredulous. “I gave you food, a bed, and this is what you create?”
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I know. It’s unfair. I’m sorry.”
The silence weighed heavily. Finally, I exhaled, words coming out like a sentence. “I think it’s best if you leave.”
By morning, I drove her to a nearby shelter. She packed quietly, her eyes rimmed with regret. I slipped her some money, and after a hesitant moment, she accepted. Then she was gone, the estate feeling emptier than ever before.
In the following weeks, I told myself I’d done the right thing. But I couldn’t ignore the lingering ache. I missed her stories, her blunt humor, the way she challenged my aloof detachment. The house felt unbearably quiet.
Then a package arrived. Inside was a painting—this time, a tranquil portrait of me, calm and at peace. It bore no trace of the grotesque imagery from before. There was a note, too: I’m sorry. Thank you for your kindness. – Lexi. Beneath her name, a phone number.
I hesitated, the phone heavy in my hand. Eventually, I dialed.
“Hello?” came her voice, cautious and soft.
“It’s me,” I said. “I got your painting. It’s… beautiful.”
“I’m glad,” she replied quietly. “I didn’t know if you’d even look at it.”
“I did,” I assured her. “And I’d like to see you again—maybe over dinner?”
A pause, then a gentle laugh. “I’d like that.”
She told me how she’d used the money I gave her to buy clothes, find a job, and start saving for her own place. For the first time in years, she was rebuilding her life. As I ended the call, I understood something crucial: I wasn’t just helping Lexi. By welcoming her into my home, even briefly, and by facing the painful truths her art had revealed, I was healing parts of myself I’d long neglected.
In choosing kindness, I found a path to my own redemption. We both deserved another chance—to trust, to forgive, and to grow.