“He’ll be seven this year. I would certainly argue about bravery,” the man chuckled. “What do you say? Is the picture really that intriguing?”
“Honestly, I prefer other works more,” she replied, trying to feign an interested expression. “For example, a giraffe with an ice cream cone for a head could be a great decoration for a children’s party in the yard.”
The boy’s father nodded in agreement:
“Let’s go, Lucas. We still have a lot of work to see.”
“But Dad—” the boy pouted.
“No arguing, son,” the father said, stroking his son’s head and leading him away, ignoring his whimpers.
Following him, shaking their heads, the twins and the father’s guide left. The tension between them seemed palpable. Flavuses become adults in moments of danger for their charges, but what danger could there be from his father, or perhaps it was the Kanis —
The event was slowly drawing to a close, and people began to disperse. The walls thinned out as some bought paintings. Fortunately for Sophia, no one bought the twins.
Libby wandered gloomily around the columns with empty spots for paintings, trying all evening to avoid the other guides. It seemed she noticed the disapproving glances.
When the last visitor finally left, Sophia sat down on the couch and looked at Van. He appeared a bit tired and thoughtful.
“Can I smoke?” she asked.
“Yes of course,” Constantin pulled an ashtray from under the bar and handed it to her.
“It was incredibly interesting,” she said, exhaling a puff of smoke.
“Are you kidding me?” Disappointment was evident in Constantin’s voice.
“What do you mean?” Sophia didn’t understand.
“I heard your conversation with the boy and his father, Sophia. Why did you say not to buy that piece? Is it really that bad?”
“Nonsense.” Sophia extinguished her cigarette in the ashtray. “It’s not about that at all.”
“Then what is it about?” Van interrupted, anger growing on his face.
“I'll be honest with you. I don't just look at drawings as a passer-by, but also as a doctor.”
“As a psychiatrist, you mean,” Constantin casually interjected.
“I haven’t finished my thought,” the girl replied coldly. “I view paintings through the lens of my professional perspective. And no matter how beautiful a piece may be, I don’t want a seven-year-old boy gazing at it before bed. His psyche is still developing. Whether you like it or not, horror films aren’t just labeled 18+ for no reason. That’s what I wanted to say.”