“She’s trembling,” Jade observed, her voice a murmur.

Lauren’s smile finally reached her eyes. “Good girl,” she breathed.

And in the hush of the empty gallery, under the gaze of paintings that saw nothing and knew everything, Kenma James remained exactly where she was—transfixed between two points of gravity, with no intention of ever drifting free.

“It’s whether you can,” Jade finished softly.