Thomas arrived at Aurelius Gallery at 2:47 p.m., he sat in the back of the car, staring at the building through tinted windows. regretting every decision that had led him here. "Sir?" His driver glanced in the rearview mirror. "Would you like me to wait?"Thomas forced himself to move. "No. I'll call when I'm ready."He stepped out into the Los Angeles afternoon. The gallery entrance loomed ahead, and for a brief, irrational moment, Thomas considered getting back in the car and leaving.But his feet carried him forward anyway.The lobby was cool, quiet, tastefully minimal. A receptionist looked up, smiled professionally."Thomas Anderson," he said."Of course, Mr. Anderson. Marcus is expecting you. Third floor, conference room B."Thomas nodded and moved toward the elevator, hands buried in his pockets to keep the tension locked in.The doors closed.He exhaled slowly.Somewhere in this building, her work hung on walls. Pieces of the last six months, her survival, her pain, her refus
Last Updated : 2026-02-11 Read more