Chapter 36 The Laufet Original
\-Lilith-
Mother wanted us to hang out today. She said we rarely spoke even though we lived under the same roof. So here I was, dragging myself to her art gallery in the middle of the city.
I let out a small sigh as I entered the bright, wide space with clean white walls carefully arranged with all sorts of pieces, from paintings to weird sculptures. Something about all these gave her peace and tranquility, she’d claimed, but I just didn’t get it.
At that moment, I saw a team of art couriers wheeling out a large crate. Business seems to be going well.
I didn’t know what came over me, but I marched up to them, taking a quick glance at the invoice taped to the side.
It was a massive painting, and Reginald Blackwell was the recipient. But the price nearly made me choke on my latte.
“$120,000 for a piece of art?! That’s outrageously high!”
One of the couriers smiled. “The prices of these things are subjective, and this is an original by Laufet. So it makes a lot of sense.”
I straightened, strolling off. “Whatever, I’ll never really understand these things,” I said dismissively.
I mean, what was the logic behind spending that much on a piece of art when I could shop to my heart’s content or when Colin and I could use that money for our trip.
I headed to Mother’s office and just as I made a turn to the corner, I saw two officers leaving the office. Mother was visibly upset, her face was flushed and her eyes teary.
“… He was such a good kid, please do let me know when you get any new information,” she told them sorrowfully.
They nodded, then quietly walked past me.
My brows furrowed as I walked into her office, ready to badger her with questions, but she had quickly recovered like I imagined what I had just seen.
Odd.
My confusion deepened. “The cops…why were they here?”
“Oh nothing serious,” she casually said, taking her blazer off the coat rack and putting it on, “one of my artifact couriers was shot dead.”
“Oh.” I blinked.
“Brad Miller…poor kid,” she sighed, like we weren’t discussing a murder. “He must have messed with the wrong people.” She murmured the last part.
She continued, picking up her handbag. “Come on, I have a lot to do today, let’s go.”
With that, she strode out of the office, heels clicking against the marble floor. Calm. Composed.
Once we got outside, she handed me her car keys. “Drive.” She grinned at me.
I obeyed without hesitation, but at the back of my mind, I kept wondering if I had missed something. Perhaps there was a celebration, my birthday, her birthday, an anniversary….or maybe she was just in a good mood.
First we had lunch together. We didn’t talk much, we had very different tastes and views, so there was not much to say.
Next, she made me drive another half hour across the city to get to an art foundation I’d never heard about.
The building was simple with a small sign that read: Angel Wings Art Foundation.
When we walked in, and there were kids. So many kids. They sat at tables, painting, drawing and laughing like they had no care in the world.
A smile tugged my lips as I watched, and suddenly a part of me wanted to join them.
“Lilith,” Mother called, loud and sharp. “They’re waiting for me,” she said, walking past the reception like she owned the place, and maybe she did, at least to the staff.
They greeted her with polite smiles that seemed almost…reverential.
I followed her down a narrow corridor to a small office at the back. The Director’s office.
She sat down, reached into her back, pulled out a check and handed it to the director without a word.
He nodded with a smile, opened a large leather-bound book tagged: donations, and quietly wrote something.
When he slid the book over for her to sign, I took a quick glance and nearly gasped.
“$50,000?” I muttered, trying not to sound shocked.
She didn’t even look at me. Her pen just moved across the page, and down the bottom like this was just another routine.
What the hell?
Just then, a small kid ran in, holding a childish painting and tugging at her sleeve.
“Are you coming back tomorrow?”
Mother smiled briefly, just to acknowledge him, then turned back to me, rising to her feet.
The director rushed to his feet too, stretching his hand for a handshake.
“Mrs. Blackwell, do send my regards to—” the man was interrupted by Mother clearing her throat.
His eyes darted in my direction.
“Ah…yes, to your husband.” He chuckled nervously.
My confusion deepened, mind reeling from the awkward exchange, with him, the staff and even that little boy that just ran out of the room. The calm control of it all left a weird feeling in my chest.
“This feels…off.”
When we walked back to the car, she took out a small bottle of hand sanitizer I didn’t know she had, and poured a handful, murmuring.
“These lowlifes and their audacity. I don’t even want to imagine where that book came from before he dared touch me with it.”
This was exhausting.
“You have just politely declined,” I retorted.
She was about to speak when her phone began to ring. “I’ve got to take this,” she sighed, opening the car.
I waited, watching her act like she was talking to someone in charge of her, maybe a gallery client?
She smiled, she paced, tucked her hair behind her ears…and my curiosity piqued.
With Dad, I’d never seen her like this.
Realization hit me hard. “Is she cheating on Dad?”
At that moment, she returned to the car, a smile etched on her face. “Lilith, you’re going to have to go without me. I…uh, I have a client to meet.”
My brows arched, “You seem rather excited,” I noted.
“Because everything is finally falling into place.” She grinned.
God, this was so out of character, and weird.
I didn’t want to press any further, so I just smiled back and nodded. Then remembered I had agreed to all of these in the first place.
“Mother, Colin and I were planning to go on a trip. Could you help me get Grandmother’s approval?”
I held my breath after that, watching her eyes wander like they were weighing options.
“Let’s talk about it over dinner,” she concluded.
Of course, we wouldn't.
“… Right,” my lips pressed into a thin line, “I’ll see you at home I guess.”
With that, I turned on the engine and drove off.
Out of sight at least...because I couldn’t shake off this nagging feeling off my chest.
Something strange was going on.