Chapter <b>508 </b>
<b>Chapter </b><b>508 </b>
The little guy looked up at the dashing piano prince. He knew this Federico used to have a thing for his mommy. <b>If </b><b>Fedanes </b><b>spent </b>all his time ins him piano, wouldn’t that keep him too busy to chase after her?
Thinking this through, Howard nodded. “I’d love to, Mommy.”
The adults burst intoughter at his serious tone. Caitlin smiled. “Alright then, from today on, you’ll officially start lessons with Federico
“Come here, let me get a good look at my little protégé!”
Federico pulled Howard over, giving his cheeks a squeeze and ruffling his hair affectionately.
He turned to Caitlin with a grin. “You can rest assured–I’ll make sure he bes an incredible pianist someday.”
“Federico, I don’t have such lofty goals,” Caitlin replied with a gentle smile. “I just want things to happen naturally. He’s still a kid. Being happy is what. matters most.”
“Of course. Ipletely understand.”
They walked out of the Carriage House together, continuing the conversation.
“Now that you’ve taken Howard under your wing,” Caitlin asked, “how do you n to teach him?”
“Well… are you okay with himing back to my home country with me?”
Federico usually resided in S Nation. He traveled for performances but was based there for most of the year.
Without hesitation, Caitlin answered, “I’m sorry, Federico, but I can’t let you take Howard away. You might not know, but we were separated for five years. I only recently found him. I need to be with him–I told myself I wouldn’t leave him again.”
Federico nodded with understanding. “That makes sense. Looks like I’ll have to settle down here, then.”
For a student this promising, he was willing to make sacrifices.
“Won’t that be a lot to ask of you?” Caitlin said with a hint of guilt.
“What? If I be your neighbor and get free meals all the time, I’m notining.”
He had already fallen in love with her cooking. If being nearby meant more home–cooked meals, he was in.
Caitlin gave him a skeptical look. “Don’t tell me you’re only taking Howard as a student <b>to </b>mooch food off me?”
Federico’s lips curved into a handsome grin. “Half and half. But seriously, here’s another idea: you can hire me as his private tutor. That way I <b>get </b><b>to </b><b>teach </b>-and still mooch.”
“…Are you serious?”
Caitlin looked at him like he was from another.
“For someone of your caliber, I’m pretty sure we can’t afford your rate.”
Sheughed and walked ahead. Federico followed quickly. “I’ll give you a discount! I’m cheap! Think about <b>it</b>, okay?<i>” </i>
The once–dignified piano prince, reduced to begging for meals. Shameless.
Federico’s easygoing nature and sincerity made him a likablepanion. To show her appreciation, Caitlin decided <b>to </b><b>skip </b><b>the </b><b>office </b><b>that </b><b>morning </b><b>and </b>take him to the art exhibit at Lisson Gallery.
<b>19:49 </b><b>Wed</b>, <b>20 </b><b>Aug </b>
She had been personally invited by the gallery owner, Louis, to attend this special exhibition she even had two pieces on <b>disy </b>
Upon arriving, Caitlin and Federico were weed by Louis, who greeted them warmly.
“Joe, go take care of the other guests. We’ll look around ourselves.”
“Of course. Please, enjoy.”
With Louis excusing himself, Caitlin led Federico through the exhibit, starting from the entrance.
Each painting showcased in the gallery was a carefully curated treasure with immense artistic value.
As they moved through the space, they happened to run into Zora, who had arrived with a malepanion.
Both parties stopped in front of the same painting–one of Caitlin’s.
Zora raised an eyebrow and offered a thin smile. “Well, if it isn’t Caitlin. You really stole the spotlight atst night’s birthday party.”
“What? Miss Harris is paying such close attention to me?”
“I only heard about it,” Zora replied smoothly, her toneced with sarcasm.
She thought of the uing expo and asked smugly, “With how busy you are, do you even have time to prepare for thepetition? It’s the day after tomorrow, you know.”
“Thanks for your concern, but you should worry about yourself. Is your entry ready?” Caitlin shot back calmly.
“Of course. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Zora then turned her attention back to the painting in front of her–the one Caitlin had created under the name O’Brien. She looked at herpanion and said loud enough for Caitlin to hear, “Hey, have you seen this one? What do you think of it?”
The man wore a mask and carried himself with quiet reserve. “It’s… average,” he said tly.
Zoraughed. “Just average? Wow! Hard to believe a piece this nd is worth such an absurd price. I really don’t get it.”
It was obvious she was trying to mock Caitlin.
Caitlin didn’t respond, but Federico did.
“I think this painting has depth and soul. It’s beautiful. Some people just have poor taste and can’t appreciate real art.”
Caitlin nodded. “Exactly. These days, plenty of people pretend <b>to </b>understand art. It’sughable.”
Their back–and–forth wiped the smugness off Zora’s face. She opened her mouth to respond, but Caitlin was already walking away with Federico.
Zora clenched her fists. Why did she alwayse out looking worse in these encounters?
Fine. Let her be smug for now. The designpetition would be Caitlin’s downfall. Just wait.
Caitlin and Federico continued to stroll through the gallery<b>, </b>stopping at a particr painting.
Federico nced <b>at </b>the card and eximed, Whoa! This is my friend Ashfall’s work.”
“Your friend?” Caitlin leaned in, first drawn by the artist’s unique perspective and technique. It wasn’t like anything <b>she’d </b>seen <b>before</b>.
The painting depicted <b>a </b>woman sitting behind a barbed wire window, her head bowed slightly, her profile delicate <b>and </b><b>hauntingly </b><b>beautiful</b>.
<b>Despite </b><b>the </b>rusted wire and crumbling walls suggesting despair, <b>the </b>woman’s figure was painted with life <b>and </b><b>depth</b>. <b>Her </b><b>hopelessness</b><b>, </b><b>loneliness</b><b>, </b><b>and </b>
<b>2/3 </b>
wear <b>zu </b>Aug
quiet resilience were almost palpable.
<b>Yet </b>her gaze was fixed on a lone de of grass growing through a crack in the broken windowsill–a single, subtle <b>sign </b><b>of </b>hope:
The entireposition was stunning. The details were exquisite.
Caitlin found herself staring at the woman’s face in the painting, struck by an uncanny sense of familiarity.
<b>“</b>The woman in this painting…”
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