“I will file them at nine o’clock,” Vance said. “The wire transfer for the forty-two million is already pending. It will clear by noon.”

“I want the trust documents for the foundation drawn up by Monday,” I said. “Every cent of that settlement must go directly into the account for the Carter Foundation.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep a portion for yourself?” Vance asked. “To buy a house, or a larger studio?”

“I have my art,” I said. “And I have my name. That is enough.”

“Very well,” Vance said. “I will have the paperwork ready for your signature on Monday morning.”

“Thank you, David,” I said, and hung up.

I stood up and walked to the easel.

I picked up a brush, dipped it into a jar of white paint, and began to work on the horizon of the canvas.

I painted the light breaking through the clouds.

I worked for hours, the sound of the city fading into the background until there was only the brush against the canvas.