Chapter 10
Emma tried to resign.
Of course.
She had been thrown against a wall during my gala and then turned into a story everyone wanted to hear.
“Why?”
“People keep calling me the girl who found Charlotte.”
Fair.
“What do you want?”
She looked surprised.
“Not to be famous in the kitchen.”
I almost smiled.
Reasonable.
She took six weeks away.
Paid.
Not reward.
Recovery from an event that happened while working in my house.
When she returned, she requested a different assignment.
Not because of Isabella.
Because restoration interested her.
That surprised me.
The portrait mechanism.
Frames.
Textiles.
She had been helping the conservation team informally for months.
Again, another employee with an entire self I had never asked about.
We moved her into restoration support under the museum conservator.
Training included.
Not because she rescued Charlotte.
Because she wanted the work and was good at it.
Important.
Months later, I saw her repairing a gilt frame in the same gallery.
The hidden room behind the portrait had been emptied.
Not sealed permanently.
It existed for original architectural access.
We added an interior release.
Obvious after the fact.
Emma pointed at it.
“Should’ve always had one.”
“Yes.”
Sometimes safety improvements are embarrassingly simple.
Then she asked:
“Do you want the portrait moved?”
I looked at the massive oil painting hiding the compartment.
“No.”
“Bad memory?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“It’s still a good painting.”
She nodded.
May you like
That was enough.
We stopped converting every object into verdict.
