Chapter 56. The Gallery Reborn

It opened without fanfare. No grand press release heralded its arrival; there was no crimson ribbon stretched across the threshold, no hastily choreographed social media blitz meant to ignite instant buzz. Instead, passersby saw only a single, delicate flourish: a modest, hand-lettered sign taped to the gallery window, its ink still fresh. It read:

THE WHITE ROOM — REIMAGINED

Max, true to form, had burst in early that morning, enthusiasm tumbling over itself as he volunteered to manage every detail—ordering the perfect wine, securing gallery-grade frames, tinkering with lighting angles until each beam felt just right. Alyssa listened while he rattled off installers’ phone numbers and color temperatures. Then she simply shook her head. He paused, set down his phone, then nodded, stepping aside as she took the reins in her own quiet way.

The room’s architecture remained unchanged: ceilings soaring like the hull of a grand ship, tall windows that stretched nearly to t