Chapter 23 Art Exhibition
Jason's doubts vanished. The video ended there.
Whatever came after was probably just them having a heartwarming family moment caring for Sabrina. I exited the video and saw a string of messages from Melissa waiting.
[Four complete idiots. I don't know what incident they're talking about, but it's so obvious Sabrina's lying—how can they not see it?]
[Whatever. If they could see through her, they would've by now.]
[Cate, aren't I amazing? I snuck into the security room to copy this footage~]
[Cate, why aren't you answering? Don't you dare cry alone!]
[You need to punish them. Make them regret everything they've done today, got it?]
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That tiny bit of emotion I'd been harboring disappeared after reading her messages. Good friends really were the best medicine for a wounded soul.
I sent Melissa a proper reply and transferred her some money. [Thanks for all your hard work. Get yourself some coffee.]
Melissa quickly sent back even more money. [You need to take care of yourself out there.]
[Don't be shy about taking it. It's all coming from those black-hearted brothers of yours anyway.]
Warmth flooded my chest. After chatting a bit more, I asked her to keep watching the Rosewood family for me and ended the conversation.
Now I just needed to sit tight and wait for the Rosewood family to fall apart on their own.
Weekend.
After finishing lunch with Nicholas, he suddenly asked about my afternoon plans.
"Do you have something in mind?"
Nicholas nodded. "There's an art exhibition on Riverside Drive. Want to check it out?"
I'd majored in jewelry design in college, but painting had always been a hobby of mine. Seeing other people's work might even inspire future designs.
"Sure."
I agreed. But I never expected to run into a familiar artist's work there.
According to Nicholas, this wasn't a solo exhibition. It was hosted by the local artists' association, and they'd put out an open call for submissions beforehand. Guests could vote for their favorite pieces, and there was even online voting. The paintings with the most votes would go up for auction, which would be livestreamed so people online could participate remotely.
In short, this was a for-profit exhibition open to the general public—a great opportunity for unknown artists to gain recognition and make money. To maintain fairness, all the works were displayed anonymously.
Until I saw the painting in front of me, I'd been genuinely excited about everything on display.
The piece was done in an oil painting style with an overall springtime color palette. The scene showed a little girl on a swing in a garden. Not far away, the artist was shown painting at an easel. Realistic style. Delicate brushstrokes, beautiful composition.
In an extremely discreet spot in the lower right corner, there was a tiny 'M.'
My lips twisted into something resembling a smile. Inside, I felt frozen solid.
When we were young, Andrew had been busy taking over the family business and rarely came home. James was away studying—you could count on one hand how many days a year he spent at home. Jason had a wild personality and plenty of flashy friends.
So aside from Melissa, I'd spent the most time with Michael and Sabrina when we were kids.
This painting—the original scene had three people in it. Little me, running back and forth between Sabrina and Michael.
"Catherine, come push my swing!"
"Catherine, come change my water!"
They'd both needed help. I'd worked tirelessly, running around that garden on my stubby little legs under the blazing sun.
After our parents died in that car accident, the Rosewood family had hit rock bottom. Andrew had only kept a handful of staff to look after us, and everyone was stretched thin. Melissa's family didn't arrive until after the Rosewood family had stabilized.
That day, Sabrina had played to her heart's content. Michael had painted with abandon. Only me—I'd developed a fever after the sun went down that afternoon.
"Mike, I want to see a movie!"
"Okay, I'll take you!"
I'd stopped them both before they could leave. "Michael, I don't feel good. Can you take me to the hospital?"
Michael had been about to crouch down and check on me when Sabrina piped up, her face the picture of innocent concern. "Catherine, if you don't want Mike to go with me, you can just say so. You don't need to lie."
"Mike, I won't go to the movies. You stay with Catherine."
Michael had instantly lost patience and shoved me aside. "Learning to lie at such a young age!"
I'd cried and tried to defend myself. "I'm not lying! I really don't feel good."
"Mike, Catherine was fine this afternoon. How could she suddenly be sick?"
Michael had scoffed. "She's faking it. Come on, let's go. Ignore her."
He'd carried Sabrina off to the movies. All it would've taken was touching my forehead to know I wasn't lying. But Michael hadn't bothered.
Later, one of the Rosewood household staff had found me and given me medicine. That's when my fever finally broke.
When Michael came home that night and remembered what had happened, he'd gone to my room to check on me. Seeing me sleeping peacefully, he'd been even more convinced I'd been faking it for attention.
After that... well, the past was too painful to revisit.
I just found the painting before me incredibly grating. In Michael's eyes, that day had been beautiful enough to immortalize. But why, when there had been three people there, did he only paint two?
Why was I, the one doing the hardest work and being ignored, still left out?
Nicholas didn't know what was going through my head. Seeing me linger in front of this painting for so long, he assumed I really liked it.
"If you want it, I'll vote for this one."
Then he could just buy it at the auction. Hearing his words, I snapped back to reality. I caught sight of Nicholas about to slip his ballot into the collection box at the bottom of the frame and quickly pressed my hand over his. "Wait!"
Nicholas froze, looking at me questioningly.
I pulled his hand back. "This painting is Michael's work."
Come to think of it, I'd learned to mark my own work because of his influence. Now the thought made me feel sick.
Nicholas's brow furrowed. His gaze toward the painting turned dark. No wonder Catherine had been staring at it like that.
Looking closer, that garden did resemble the Rosewood family's backyard. What had happened that day?
Nicholas vaguely guessed the painting had triggered bad memories for me, but he didn't know the details.
"Were you part of that scene?"
I gave a bitter smile. This was the first time he'd actively asked about my past. But I had no intention of telling him.
If Nicholas knew about my miserable history, would he pity me? Or would he look down on me? I didn't dare find out. Some deep part of me instinctively feared others' judgment—especially Nicholas's.
I walked toward other paintings. "Let's check out the rest. There are some pretty good pieces here."
Nicholas saw my clumsy attempt to change the subject but didn't press further. His gaze followed me constantly. Seeing me put on that carefree act, his beautiful eyes filled with heartache.
I'd been watching his reaction the whole time. Heartache?
Nicholas, don't try to peek into my shameful past. It'll only hurt me more.