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CHAPTER 57

  NAKED TRUTH

  TIARA

  I could not breathe normally due to what I could see in front of me. And me, passing judgment on him without knowing the truth about this cellar.

  It was an art gallery with immaculately comfortable lighting, golden wooden flooring, and white walls. Not just any art gallery, but one with works I was familiar with, although the artists were locally famous. Some of them I knew. I had undoubtedly seen some of their creations.

  One of Filiz’s austere paintings, one of Crane’s flowing carnival pieces, and even Jacques’ elaborate sculpture made of crushed stone and woody debris were among the works on display. On the opposite wall was a large canvas that was covered with many layers of sparkling turquoise paint and fragments of recyclables.

  Between all of this, it shocked me to see my few restored paintings prominently displayed. They were the same ones that allowed us to meet a few months ago.