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‘Nothing’ Peter turned his bak on Gamache and walked away Gamache followed

‘Mr Morrow, my question wasn’t about aesthetics, but about ht up short, as were a disturbs me I can’t tell you why because I don’t knohy It doesn’t seeo, and yet, I know it is’

Gaood judge, but unlike the work one Jane Neal’s walls, this pieceMaybe me is that possible ? Like that card trick of Jane’s with the Queen of Hearts Does art change too? I know at the end of a day I’ll look atlook at it and think it’s crap The work didn’t change, but I did Maybe Jane’s death changedisn’t there anyht Peter ‘No’

The two men stared at Fair Day, then slowly, lowly, a noise was heard unlike any anyone there had heard before It grew and nified until it reverberated around the circle of spectators Clara could feel the blood race from her face and hands Was it the storm? Was this what the tail end of a disaster sounded like? Had Kyla joined the froht beside Clara She turned and found the source Ruth

‘That’s oat in Fair Day Then the ruhed until she had to steady herself on Gabri Her laughter infected the entire roohing Much of the rest of the evening was taken with people recognising themselves or others in Jane’s work Ruth also found Timmer’s parents and her brother and sister, both now dead There was the first-grade teacher and Tied to They were the chicks Over the course of the hour or so just about every figure had been identified Still, Peter stared, not joining in the laughter

Soot it!’ Clara pointed at the painting ‘This was painted at the closing parade, right? The day your mother died In fact, isn’t that yourlahed Myrna ‘It’s Timmer’

‘Do you see? This was Jane’s tribute to your ful to her Fros, to everyone in between’ Now Clara turned to Peter ‘Re?’

‘Yes, that’s it We were talking about great art, and I said I thought art beca of themselves into it I asked Jane what she’d put into this work, and do you rereed that she’d put soe in this work She wondered if we’d figure it out In fact, I reh you’d understand I’d wondered why at the time, but now it makes sense This is for your mother’

‘You think?’ Ben moved closer to Clara and stared at the picture

‘Well, that doesn’t ent Nichol, who’d wandered over froh to a cri to cut her off before she said so, were no match for her mouth

‘Who was Yolande to Timmer? Did they even know each other?’ Nichol pointed at the face of the blonde woman in the stands next to the acrylic Peter and Clara ‘Why would Jane Neal put in a niece she herself despised? This can’t be what you said, a tribute to Mrs Hadley, with that wo one up on Clara And Clara, despite herself, could feel her anger rising She stared speechless at the s face on the other side of the easel And whatblonde wo Timmer disliked Yolande even more than Jane did

‘May I see you, please?’ Ga off the young woman’s triumphant stare Without another word he turned and walked toward the exit, Nichol hesitating an instant then following