tched with frustration. He grabb

street art. This is about a possible da Vi

ulling my arm away. "The one you built

can't stand that I succeeded where she failed. She couldn't han

tter, unstable failure. A few months ago, they would

The one that's conveniently 'blocked' now that you're facing a real challenge? The one t

e has proven herself time and time again. You're the one who

ed. He was a willing participant. Chloe's success benefited him. It brought fame, money, and prestige to his studio. He didn't want to see the truth because the lie w

pointed a finger at Chloe. "I wouldn't trust her to

re used to the broken Ava, the one who ra

rning sharp. "What are you going to do? Spen

ess," I said. "Now g

lking away, deeper into the maze of backstreets. I could feel their eyes on my back, their shock and anger radiating in the coo

of an abandoned warehouse. The case they'd mentioned, the da Vinci, it was stuck in my head. Not because I wanted to help th

ith the habits of the great 19th-century forgers. I didn't need a lab or a spectrometer. My brain was the lab. By dawn, as the first light hit the city, I had a theory. A simple, elegant solution to a complex probl

li. The headline read: "Art World Stunned as 'da Vinci' Forgery Exposed." The rep

reporter said. "How did you know th

poke to me," she said. "I felt a deep sadness, a lie at i

my theory. My exact conc

d up to the microphone. He was an

he said, clearing his throat, "we must also express our

turned to as

"Her initial analysis, which we have on file, completely missed the fraudulent canvas. It is another

t painting before in my life. They weren't just stealing my wo