FLYNN'S POV
I told myself on the way into the building that I was here as a donor.
I believed it for approximately four minutes.
Harrison and I arrived at eight on the dot. The gallery was already full, the warmth of a night that was working, voices at the right level, wine in hands, people moving through the space with genuine interest in the work that had been done. I shook hands with two people at the door and said something appropriate and then the show stopped me.
I stopped in the middle of the room and looked at what she made.
Twelve pieces. All of them were hers. I moved through them slowly. Each piece demanded something from the viewer. Not explanation, not context, just presence. The willingness to stand still long enough for the work to do what it was built to do.
She'd cal
