<strong>Chapter 430:</strong>


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    Louis, lost in thought, quietly replied, “I don’t know. Or maybe… I never really knew her.”


    He watched the flurry of activity at the table, his expression unreadable.


    Memories of their three years together shed before his eyes—how the house had been filled with small trinkets and art pieces that he had never taken the time to understand or appreciate. He’d always dismissed her interests, never bothering to learn more.


    It was only now that Louis realized the signs had been there all along, right in front of him, hidden in in sight. He had never noticed.


    It was like… he had let something precious slip through his fingers without even realizing it.


    The weight of that realization hit him hard, sinking deep into his chest. His breath caught, the air in the room feeling thick and suffocating. A sharp pain throbbed in his heart, and he almost couldn’t breathe.


    As the minutes passed, the restoration efforts advanced significantly, yet new challenges arose at every turn.


    “I can attempt to restore this area, but it maypromise the painting’s authenticity,” Roderick remarked, his brow furrowed in concern.


    The artwork bore the scars of rain damage, with stains of varying depths marring its surface. Some corners had be blurred, rendering it a pitiful sight.


    Roderick looked conflicted as he nced at Allison.


    gα?ησν????s is your gateway to fiction


    At that moment, Allison had just finished smoothing out a section of the painting that had wrinkled from moisture.


    The area nowy t and smooth, as though it had been ironed out.


    Her speed and skill left everyone in awe, particrly given her use of traditional methods.


    As soon as shepleted the task, a crowd gathered around her, eager to ask questions.


    “Allison, did youe up with this technique on your own, or did you learn it somewhere?” one asked.


    “When you have a moment, could you break down the specific steps for us?” another asked.


    “Allison, whenever you’re free, I’d love to invite you to my studio.”


    “Me too! I have a few extremely tricky pieces that I’ve struggled to restore.”


    Roderick, unable to contain his frustration, raised his voice. “Did any of you hear what I just said?”


    The chatter fell silent, and Allison’s gaze shifted to a corner of the painting.


    It was precisely where the artist had inscribed his signature.


    She had noticed it the very first time sheid eyes on the piece.


    “Roderick is right. Blind imitation can result in small errors that lead to significant discrepancies. I can manage the drawing, but inscriptions are different. Each artist has their own style, and replicating it perfectly is challenging unless…”


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    Message from Noa: Happy Thursday, dear readers! I hope you all had a fantastic week so far. May your day be filled with positivity and sess. God bless you, and Noa wishes you all the best. (─??O)


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