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Show Hannah Mae and the Mona Lisa 41 "You want to paint me?" My voice got tangled on my tongue. "Yes, I do." Mr. Morris smiled. Miss Larkin said, "I could bring you after school, Hannah. I'd ask your mom. It would be a real honor to be painted by Mr. Morris." I didn't say a word. My head was spinning like a dust devil in a fallow field. I mumbled something about the weather. Miss Larkin took my hand. "I want you to see something," she said. We walked toward a door cut into the back of the studio. Miss Larkin entered first. The room was dark. She flipped on the lights. Suddenly I was a thousand miles from Willard County. A long, carpeted gallery stretched before me with red walls and a tall, black ceiling. Soft light washed one painting after another. Each was enormous, similar in size to the canvas Mr. Morris was painting of Miss Larkin. I tried to count, but I couldn't take my eyes off one painting to |