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The painting is too massive, and even if we started copying it now, weâd be cutting it too close!â
âWe canât even patch it up.
did a number on it.â
âWhat are we going to do? Loads of international came just for this painting, and Miss Fanny is Just wicked for using it to cause trouble!â
There was silence..
Ballaster sighed deeply, âI knew she was up to no good, and I deliberately didnât interfere. But when I realized she using the painting to do harm, it was already too late to stop her. Now weâve made huge blunder. Iâve urgently contacted few people, but they canât guarantee theyâll get the rest of the replicas here before the gallery opens tomorrow.â
Lorna furrowed her brow as well.
When Ballaster Fanny was out to get her asking for her cooperation, she never imagined Fanny would go this far, using the painting for her schemes.
What do they do now?
Fanny struggled to her feet, looking almost mad, and burst out laughing, âHaha Lorna, I lost. I totally lost! But what does it matter if Iâve lost? Youâre all going down with me!â
As she ranted she began to cry. âWhy? Why are you always number one? Even though Iâm the one whoâs been working the hardest. You, with your loveâstruck brain, you only care about romance. What do you know about
art?â
She swiveled to face , continuing her tirade, âAnd Ballaster, do you her? Fine, I screwed up. Iâll resign, compensate for the damages, even quit painting! But what about you? With such a mess at the exhibition, arenât you responsible? Hahaha⦠Lorna, in the end, itâs you who have ruined Ballaster! Youâre all going down with me in disgrace!â
Ballasterâs expression darkened, âYouâre still refusing to admit fault even when facing the end. Get her out of
here
Security rushed in and, in front of everyone, grabbed Fanny by the arms and dragged her out of the gallery. She was thrown out, her reputation in ruins, justly deserved.
In the room, Teagan, witnessing the scene, buckled to his knees and cried out, âIt was all Fannyâs doing, she forced me! My art wasnât making it big, I painted every day, but couldnât earn a dime. My family mocked me, pressured me to give up. She forced me, she sold my paintings, and I had to give her ninety percent of the profitsâ¦. I had no choice. Weâre poor, I needed the moneyâ¦
lip but tear up as well.
As he cried, covering his face, many of the other artists couldnât help but tear
There so many artists, but how many of them are truly known? What do the rest live on? The process of chasing dreams is painful, they are human too, they have families. How many wives scorn their husbands for not having a steady income, leading to broken homes? How many husbands grow tired of their wivesâ persistence and part ways?
The pain of it all was known to no one. Yet it was because of these dream chasers that so many masterpieces
remain
You couldnât argue that he was in the wrong, but his methods lacked the integrity you would expect from an esteemed artist.
The atmosphere in the room grew and sighed, âSo, whatâs the point of our persistence?â
Lorna spoke up, âItâs about dreams and legacy.â
Everyone paused.
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Lornaâs voice gentle, her slow and deliberate, âWatercolor art is becoming less and less noticed. If we donât stick with it, will it one day vanish from history?â
Everyone stood a little straighter, a sense of mission kindling within them.
Lorna continued, âWe canât let life grind down our spirit, but we also canât abandon life for our dreams, right? 1. think our Art Association should take on some projects, provide some work and income. Ballaster, that video project surely needs a lot of artwork, maybe everyone could get involved?â
Ballaster nodded, âI think thatâs a good idea.â
The Art Association members perked up, their spirits lifted, but then a worry crossed their minds, âBut what about the painting?â
Just then, Cordelia spoke up smoothly, âIâll make a call.â
After saying so, she picked up her phone and dialed Everardâs number. It was answered promptly, his deep voice coming through, âKid, itâs rare for you to call me. Miss me?â
Cordelia fell silent for a moment before saying, âI need to ask you something.â
âShoot,â Everardâs every word seemed to flirt effortlessly, âIâm all ears when you need me.â
Cordelia rolled her eyes and said, âDo you have a replica of âThousand Mile River?â
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Cordelia thought for a moment; a replica of that painting would be quite valuable, and it
painting would be quite valuable, and it was normal if Everard
didnât have one.
She was about to speak again when Everard said, âI suppose I do.â
Cordeliaâs eyes lit up, âCould you lend it to the gallery for a day?â
Sure, but it canât get there until tomorrow.â
Fine â
Finishing, Cordelia hung up and turned to everyone, âItâs sorted. By tomorrow morning, someone will deliver the painting. It wonât affect the exhibition, donât worry.â
Everyone else were at a loss for words. Should they believe a little girlâs promise?
But right now, there was no other option!
The next day, everyone arrived at the gallery early, necks craned like statues waiting for their sailors, staring at the gallery entrance.
The gallery opened at eight, and it was already halfâpast seven,
The painting had to arrive by sevenâfifty to hang it in time.
All were tenterhooks, except for Cordelia, who watched the entrance with an unfazed gaze.
Then Fanny walked in, looking haggard and with reddened eyes, as though sheâd had a rough night.
Ballaster frowned, âWhat are you doing here â
Fanny, bitter and seemingly unhinged, sneered, âI came to watch your downfall! Haha, without âThousand Mile Riverâ, thereâs bound to be an uproar today. I canât to see how youâll calm the storm!â
Naylor chimed in, âThen you might be disappointed. The Delaneyâs have already found a suitable replacement.â
Fanny paused, a moment of surprise flickering across her face before she burst into laughter, âKnockoffs? Hal painting is a masterpiece, nearly impossible to replicate. There are hardly any convincing fakes there you really think the people coming to the exhibition are fools, unable to spot a blatant fake from miles away?â
Chapter 146
She then turned her gaze toward Lorna, her eyes narrowing. âAnd do you have any idea, Lorna, that as of yesterday, all those folks who bought my paintings have been banging on my door demanding refunds? Even my husband, in a desperate attempt to save his business, is talking about divorce. My lifeâs in shambles⦠but if you think youâve ruined me, think again! You wonât get off scotâfree either! Letâs just see what kind of cheap, shoddy imitation you manage to dig up today, Lorna!â
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