Page 40 of Heartsong
Hello, team! Gavin and I apologize again for the suddenness of the closure. It came to our attention that emergency restoration and cleaning was needed on several of the pieces, and to get that done, we needed to close. Please feel free to pass along our reasons and apologies to any guests who enquire. There are two new pieces on display in the main gallery while the others are restored.
Thank you again for your commitment and hard work. We hope you enjoy the time off.
–Carrie Gwyneth
It wasn’t that Anna minded lying. She didn’t, especially if it kept nosy people like cops or reporters, or worse, amateur internet sleuths looking to make a podcast, away. The crux of it was that she’d made promises to herself, and here she was, compounding this lie with another.
But how do you tell your bosses that one of their gargoyle statues sprang to life and has been living in your apartment?
You don’t.
Unless they suspected it might happen.
Anna chewed on her straw, stomach knotting tighter. All the lies and Frey’s dire warnings were getting to her. She just didn’t see how the Gwyneths could know they owned a collection of cursed mythical creatures.
Then again, how could they not?
The thought drew Anna’s gaze up, to the first corridor, where she could just spot one of the gargoyles from her desk. It was a dramatic piece, arms and wings flung wide. To her, it’d always looked upside down, like the figure should have been falling headfirst toward the ground.
They probably were when they were cursed.
Shuddering, she went back to the inbox.
Toward the bottom, with the oldest of the unanswered emails, was a name that sprang out at her. June Parkhurst. Quickly opening the message, she saw it was sent to the museum as well as Carrie’s .org.
The message was succinct.
Below you will find my intended schedule for the next few weeks while I complete the studies. Thank you for forwarding the details on the additional security measures. I look forward to working with you on this opportunity.
June P.
Anna read the message twice, hunting for any hidden detail. It felt like the end of a thread between June and Carrie, but why then CC the museum’s address?
Was she trying to letAnnaknow when she’d be in? As a warning? A threat?
After another chew on her straw, Anna hit reply. Not reply all. But she did add her own .org to the CC line as she typed out a quick response.
Dr. Parkhurst,
Thank you for your continued work. We highly value your expertise and look forward to working with you. Your schedule is perfectly fine. Please check in with Anna at the front desk when you arrive tomorrow to get your badge and fob.
Until then,
The Gwyneth Collection
Without overthinking it, Anna pressed send.
Maybe it was good that June was coming back. Anna could keep an eye on the art expert and have someone from the outside to ask some of her questions.
Alone in the lobby with a half-hour before opening time, Anna took out a small notebook and began jotting down what she already knew about the collection and its mysterious owners.
By lunch, more than a few curious visitors had filtered through the front doors to ask Anna about the extended closure. Some regulars came in too, namely the older man who read to the statues and the grad student who was drawing them, grumbling about the hiccup in their schedules.
Anna told the story enough times that the lie almost began to feel like the truth. “We’re so sorry for the inconvenience. A few restorations and some basic cleaning needed to happen, and that was best accomplished with the museum closed. We hope you have a wonderful visit today and enjoy the new exhibits!”
The stream of museumgoers was steady enough that she didn’t really notice one of the regulars until after he’d made his way through the circuit of the museum and back to the front again. She’d gotten halfway through her new spiel even before noticing it was him standing at her desk.
A middle-aged but well-kept man, his gray wool overcoat oozed money in its stiff, fine lines with a scarlet cashmere scarf tucked under the collar and lapels. His face was fine-boned, his blue eyes striking, almost dreamy beneath heavy lids. His skin was the type of tan that had known sun during his youth but maybe less of it now, and his lips were thin as they stretched into a polite smile.
