"I can do this," Felicity whispered as she stood at the foot of the steps leading up to the Art Institute of Chicago. The bronze lion, now tinted green, stood a few feet from her, staring stoically out at the street before it. She climbed the steps, her heart pounding.

She couldn't believe she was herewell, at least here as a worker of sorts and not a visitor here to admire the pieces. Sabine had called her early this morning, asking if she wanted to spend a few hours giving ...