A gallery painting bore my daughter’s face—until the truth behind it shattered everything I thought I knew

really can’t discuss student submissions,” Andrea replied carefully.

“Then the artist can explain it herself.”

We stopped outside a smaller room where a teenage girl stood near a table sorting name tags, absentmindedly picking dried paint from her sleeve.

Andrea softened her voice.

“Nova?”

The girl turned.

For one disorienting second, grief distorted my continue reading …