AURORA
The man didn’t sit down. He didn’t even pretend to be polite. He stood close to the counter with his arms folded, his eyes moving slowly around the gallery like he was already deciding what would be taken first if things went bad. It made my skin crawl.
This place wasn’t just walls and paintings. It was my aunt’s life. Every c***k in the wall, every uneven shelf, every dusty corner carried years of her effort.
“I’ve waited long enough,” he said. His voice was rough, tired, and angry. “I want my money today.”
My aunt stood stiffly beside me. I could feel the tension in her body without even looking at her. She didn’t say anything, but her silence screamed panic. I knew she didn’t have the money. If she did, this man wouldn’t be here.
“Please,” I said quietly, stepping forward.
