On the canvas, grays, greens, umbers, and sables dominated. A girl, half hidden in the shadows of overarching trees, crouched in undergrowth along a forest’s edge. She wore a mask: a wide square of bone-colored birch bark with two dark eyeholes.
Willow smiled to herself and sat down on her bed. She never imagined Mary would one day be standing in her room, having all but broken in, to see a painting. “It’s not weird or creepy, she’s just hiding,” Willow said. “She’s scared to come out of the woods and into this world. It’s called White Mask.”
Mary glowered, “Stupid.”
“When she does come out, the mask will fall off. She’s been hiding her whole life because she knows if she takes a face everything will change.”
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