The museum was full.
Stella's retrospective opening drew curators, collectors, students, critics—and ghosts.
On the main wall hung her largest piece yet: *“Threshold in Smoke."*
A door. A scorched frame. A woman stepping through without looking back.
People lingered in front of it.
No one asked for the story behind it.
They didn't need to.
---
Andrew showed up unannounced.
Edison spotted him first. Didn't stop him. Didn't need to.
This time, Stella didn't freeze.
She saw Andrew across the gallery, his suit plain, his stance careful. He wasn't scanning the room like a man seeking redemption.
He was just… there.
Respectful.
Almost invisible.
Until he approached her, quietly, during a brief lull in the crowd.
“May I say something?"
Stella nodded once. “Briefly."
“I came only
