Chapter 14 The Fracture

• The gallery breathes a little different tonight — same champagne lies, same velvet hush, same shadows pressed between priceless brushstrokes. But Ellerei feels it in her teeth — the ticking clock chewing at her ribs.
• One more night. One more mask. Then they take it all and vanish before the paint even dries.
• Claude drapes a hand low on her hip as he talks about art he doesn’t know how to name. She nods at the right places, hums a laugh at the wrong ones — just enough to keep him thinking he’s winning.