Chapter 4 — Reflections in the Loft

Elena Martinez

The moment I stepped back into my loft, the familiar scent of coffee and ink enveloped me, a grounding force after the whirlwind of emotions at The Sterling Gallery. I tossed my worn leather messenger bag onto the cluttered desk, its contents spilling out—photos of the gallery's art, notes on Nicholas Sterling's past, the cryptic message about "The Veil of Secrets," and a small recording device I'd used to capture my conversation with the mysterious man in the sharp suit. The room, filled with stacks of newspapers, books, and investigative notes, was my sanctuary, a stark contrast to the opulent and secretive world I had just left.