CHAPTER ELEVEN – THE GALA DOORS
The Lantern Gala began beneath strings of golden lights in a former railway warehouse.
A polished stage occupied one end of the hall, while white-draped tables displayed pottery, paintings, woodwork, and textiles.
Several pieces had small red cards indicating that their sale was temporarily suspended.
Other objects carried green cards because their artists had willingly agreed to sell them.
The distinction mattered, and Imogen had worked all afternoon to ensure the organizers understood it.
Mabel arrived in a wheelchair accompanied by the care community coordinator.
Doris and Leon came in a van with several other artists.
June wore a dark blue dress and carried the repaired folding chair arm as a visual reminder of what had happened in our yard.
I suggested leaving it in the car.
June insisted on keeping it until we had spoken to Bernice.
Celia stood near the entrance greeting guests.
Her eyes flickered toward the red cards, but she continued smiling.
A donor asked why so many works were unavailable.
Celia explained that a legal review was underway and that the organization respected every artist’s rights.
The sentence sounded carefully rehearsed.
At seven, a local television crew began recording interviews for an arts segment.
The reporter, Malik Turner, approached Mabel and asked whether she was excited about the auction.
Mabel looked directly into the camera.
“I’m excited to see my friends’ work,” she said.
“I’m not excited that somebody tried to sell mine without asking.”
The reporter lowered his microphone in surprise.
Imogen stepped closer and asked that the residents be given space to speak without being pressured.
Malik introduced himself and offered to arrange a separate interview if they wished.
Mabel agreed on the condition that Doris and Leon could participate too.
They moved to a quieter corner.
I watched from several feet away while each person explained what they had expected when lending artwork.
Nobody exaggerated.
Doris admitted that she had signed a form she did not fully read because she trusted Bernice.
Leon acknowledged that he had once considered selling smaller pieces to support the classes.
Mabel said she had never offered to sell the bird intended for her granddaughter.
Their calm voices made the accusations more powerful than an angry speech would have been.
Across the hall, Nina stood near a service entrance wearing ordinary clothes rather than a staff badge.
She was speaking with an investigator from the economic crimes unit.
When she saw me, she raised a hand briefly.
I returned the gesture.
Celia approached the stage manager and whispered urgently.
He looked at his watch and shook his head.
A second conversation followed with the event company’s supervisor.
The supervisor pointed toward the sealed storage area.
It appeared that several disputed lots had already been removed from display.
Imogen joined the conversation and asked to verify the inventory.
The supervisor agreed to accompany her.
The crowd continued gathering, unaware that a dispute over ownership was unfolding beyond the curtains.
Then Bernice appeared in the doorway.
She wore her old red volunteer vest over a plain black dress.
Her hair was neatly combed, and her hands shook so badly that she gripped her purse with both hands.
June saw her first.
“She came,” my niece whispered.
Bernice looked around until she found Mabel.
Mabel’s expression changed when she recognized her old friend.
Bernice walked slowly across the room.
“I owe you an explanation,” she said.
Mabel folded her hands in her lap.
“You owe us more than that,” she answered.
