Dusk began to fall outside, so I stood to light the lamps. I lit all I had, until the house was so bright, it looked as if a new age was dawning in my kitchen.

I had to say the words again. “I will be Vincent’s agent.” An unheard of audacity from a woman. “I can’t wait to see how the gatekeepers of the art world will respond to that.”

Anna raised her glass. “Let us drink to the battles ahead.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Emsley

“I’m sorry,” Bram told me over the phone, canceling our dinner plans.

I couldn’t exactly complain after having just read about Johanna and the hardships she’d faced. She postponed her trip to New York. But she did cross the ocean eventually. I googled it to be sure. I couldn’t wait to read about it.

Bram said, “I’m at the emergency room with my grandfather. When he dropped to his knees at Violet’s funeral, he hurt his kneecaps. Of course, he didn’t tell anyone until he was in too much pain to keep faking being well.”

“How bad is it?”

“The doctor is going to drain fluid from both knees. At least nothing is broken.”

I was a terrible person for letting Bram’s deep voice get to me when we were talking about an emergency medical situation. And I was wrong to think about him after we hung up, but the electric buzz zipping through my body wouldn’t stop. I spent half the night twisting and turning.

And the next night, and the next week.

Bram had to fly to Boston with the heirs of an international client who owned properties in multiple states. He called every day. We talked for hours. I distracted myself from missing him by working on setting up Ludington’s New York branch. I reached out to clients and advised them on the location change, talked up new opportunities the city brought, assured them that we’d still be working with their Hollywood supporters. Most celebrities were bicoastal anyway.

On Saturday, I crawled out of bed at dawn. I wanted to finish a good chunk of housecleaning before Strena’s show at the MoMA that afternoon.

I drank coffee, ate leftovers, took care of Lai Fa, and then I dragged myself back upstairs to pack up Violet’s office. By noon, I was almost finished, everything in boxes except for the paintings on the walls. I had to buy some Bubble Wrap for those. I didn’t want to damage any of the pieces.

The terrible little painting I’d found in the blue box with the old letters and the green diary, however, was another matter.

I showed it to Lai Fa. “You think cleaning the grime off might help?”

Peep.

The top three search results suggested “gentle soapy water.” I carried the painting to the kitchen, Lai Fa close on my heel.