Grayson's POV

The exhibition hall smelled like human spaces always did — floor wax, recycled air, the particular flatness of a building that housed a lot of people without knowing any of them.

I noticed the painting from across the room.

Not because I was looking for it. I'd been looking for it since we walked in, tracking position and foot traffic and the angle of the overhead lighting the way I tracked territory, which Lynn had told me was not the appropriate response ...