him a liar and a manipulator. Tiffany' s sorority sisters, who had initially defe

me of female resilience. I spent 18-hour days in the studio, the smell of turpentine and oil paint replacing the phantom

rah, found me in the studio. Sh

his," she said, ho

a picture of a hospital room door. The cap

empted to take her own life last night," he wrote. "She is stable now, but this is what cruelty does. I hope you're all

s a classic Tiffany move, a desperate play for sympathy orchestrated by a master manipulator, and J

eak, pathetic man who would cling to any lie, hurt any

s wide with concern. "Chloe

her pho

ng," I

and scraped a thick layer of

m d

Their drama was a black hole, and I would not let it pull me in. I blocked the last fe

ong women I was painting. My professors noticed my renewed focus. My main advisor, a r

fternoon, studying a nearly finished portrait. "Don't let i

but instead of falling apart, I was building so