Nova’s mouth ran dry. The artist had captured Ace’s features perfectly—that horrible devastation, even in death. Dark eyes open to the sky, lips parted in disbelief. It was not based on reality, she knew. This moment, caught in time, was nothing more than an artistic interpretation of what might have happened. Perhaps, in their mind, what should have happened. But in truth, there had been nothing left of Ace’s body for them to lord their victory over.
