The signature at the bottom of the painting read âMapleâ.
It was the alias used by Javier, a distinguished master of Landscape art.
He counted Christopher, Rosalynnâs mentor, among his close friends until he succumbed to illness at eighty.
His artworks, now rare treasures, surged in value posthumously.
Under normal circumstances, stumbling upon his work here would have been a joyous find.
Yet, something about this particular painting.
.
âThis isnât a piece crafted by Master Javier Morrison,â Rosalynn declared after studying it closely.
Noemi, who was nearby, voiced her astonishment, âAre you suggesting this painting is fake?â
âIndeed, itâs fake,â Rosalynn confirmed with surety.
Gail, who had been listening, added her thoughts with a_ nod, âSomething about it struck me as odd.
His creations have always captivated me.
As a youngster, I even attempted to imitate his technique.
His brushstrokes were refined, and his landscapes had this unique essence, pulling the observer into the vista.
Replicating that is no small feat.
This painting, though⦠Itâs missing his finesse.
It tries to mirror his style but fails to capture his essence.
â
Gail, with her expertise, harbored reservations which led her to this conversation with Rosalynn.
The two exchanged glances, surveying their surroundings.
âWho might the owner of this gallery be? Are they present?â
The discovery of a counterfeit piece in a newly inaugurated gallery sparked curiosity.
Was it a case of the ownerâs ignorance, or could there have been a deliberate intent?
Just then, a figure descended from the second floor.
âDid you come to view the exhibition as well?â
The familiar timbre of the voice caught Rosalynnâs attention, prompting her to glance upwards.
Selina, clad in a sleek black dress that spoke of refined taste, made her way down the stairs with elegance.
Her chestnut curls fell softly around her shoulders, adding to her allure.
Despite the passage of months, she appeared as luminous as ever.
âGlad to meet you here, Selina.
â
Gail didnât expect to see Selina here.
After a moment of surprise, she extended a warm greeting.
âItâs been too long.
â
Noemi, equally taken aback, engaged Selina with a warmth that rivaled, if not surpassed, Gailâs.
âMrs.
Hughes, itâs been a while.
â
As Selina stood before them, her gaze settled on Rosalynn for a brief moment before she turned to Noemi with a courteous smile.
âAre you here for the art exhibition?â Noemi inquired, eyeing her curiously.
âNo, a friend of mine opened this gallery and I decided to invest a bit,â Selina shared, revealing her stake in the gallery.
The revelation prompted Rosalynn to ponder how Selina, with her background in dance, ventured into the realm of art and calligraphy.
Her gaze shifted, hinting at her contemplation, yet she chose to stay quiet for the time being.
âSo, youâre one of the galleryâs owners now?â Noemiâs surprise was evident once more.