Gemotions

The gallery buzzed, a low hum of chatter and clinking glasses. Amelia leaned against a pristine white wall, her fingers tracing the smooth surface. A slow smile spread across her face, mirrored by the subtle widening of her eyes. She sipped her champagne, the bubbles tickling her nose. This was it. Her art. Her stolen art, but it was *there*. The sheer audacity of it still made her pulse race. She'd known for weeks, of course, thanks to an anonymous tip, but seeing the large-scale print of her “Ephemeral Bloom” gracing the main wall, perfectly lit, felt… validating. She subtly adjusted her scarf, a nervous habit, though she felt nothing but buoyant satisfaction.