Evelyn's POV

Evelyn had arrived at the gallery long before the doors opened, carrying a tote bag that held

nothing but a notebook, a pen, and her ever-present sense of unease. The marble lobby

gleamed in the morning light, polished and cold. High ceilings reflected the faint sound of

footsteps, the soft hum of chandeliers settling after a long night, and the distant murmur of the

city beyond the thick glass walls.

She sighed, adjusting the strap of her apron, already feeling the familiar ache ...