In the mirror, my face looked pale, my eyes dark with exhaustion.

But there was a steadiness in my gaze that hadn’t been there for years.

I walked back out into the main gallery space.

The lights were dim, the spotlights casting long, sharp shadows across the floor.

The first painting, *The Silent Partner*, seemed to glow under the halogen lamp.

I walked to the front window and looked down at the street.

A black town car was idling near the curb.

It wasn’t Daniel’s usual vehicle, but the license plate was familiar.

It belonged to his security detail.

My heart began to beat a little faster.

I checked my watch.

It was only five o’clock.

The exhibition wasn’t scheduled to start for another two hours.

The freight elevator began its slow, noisy ascent.

The cables rattled in the shaft.

I stood in the center of the gallery, surrounded by the painted evidence of his crimes.

The elevator bell chimed.

The heavy iron gate slid back with a metallic clatter.

Daniel stepped into the room.

He looked exactly as he had the day I left him.