...Max hauled the half bottle of riesling from the refrigerator, then poured the contents into the biggest wine glass he owned—a gift from friends who’d gone to Europe. After a sip, he wandered back to his studio to admire his work.

“You’re going to impress the hell out of Lenny Burnett, that’s for sure,” he told the statue as he sank into the only armchair in the room—a worn-out Lazy Boy recliner that had faded to gray from its original light blue.

“You should have a name, don’t you think? Although I rather like the title of ‘Lady’ or ‘Woman.’ Calling you ‘Eve’ would be too trite and much too overdone.”

He glanced out the French doors while he pondered an appropriate name for her. While inside the lighting made it feel like daylight, outside it was night with the merest hint of moon peeking through the trees.

She’d look beautiful in the moonlight.

Max shook off the wayward emotion and took a deep drink of wine. He’d created the statue to sell. Sentimentality would get him in the poor house in next to no time. Still, he wanted her to have a good home.

Please…release me.

He flexed his shoulders as the words filtered through his mind. He’d been hearing them for months, ever since he’d purchased the marble. What more needed to be done? He studied her contours as he sipped.