As I glanced around the room, something on the wall caught my eye.
I couldn’t believe it.
It was Water Serpents II by Gustav Klimt—the very painting that had been sold anonymously in 2015 for $170 million. My feet moved on their own, carrying me closer, as I squinted to see if it was a replica.
It wasn’t.
It was the original.
This masterpiece—this treasure—was hanging here, alone, in this cursed place. Naked nymphs floated innocently, almost sinfully, through a magical, flower-strewn underwater world. Water serpents danced among them, while starfish tangled in their hair. I could lose myself in a painting like that for hours. The rest of the world faded when I looked at true art.
And in that moment, I forgot where I was—and why I was there.
“One critic once called it ‘the intimate c
