Penance - Uncovering the truth, Secrets and confessions, and Twisted pasts

Chapter 67

"Grayson Hawthorne!" A photographer shouted amongst the news reporters. "Over here!"

Grayson stepped out of the taxi, radiating a quiet confidence that turned heads as he walked towards the entrance of the charity event. He was a striking figure in his perfectly tailored black suit, the jacket hugging his broad shoulders. His crisp white shirt contrasted sharply with the dark fabric, and a sleek black tie completed his look. His strong jawline and tousled dirty blond hair only added to his magnetic appeal.

Inside the venue, soft lighting and the hum of conversation filled the air. The rich aroma of fine cuisine mingled with the delicate notes of classical music playing in the background.

Grayson wandered through the venue, taking in the art on display, though he couldn't help but feel a tad unimpressed. In Hawthorne Mansion, the walls were adorned with masterpieces by the likes of Claude Monet, Leonardo Da Vinci, Vincent Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, and countless other iconic artists. The art here was no where near comparison.

With this in mind, he decided to explore further, making his way to a second, less crowded room. This space seemed to be dedicated to student art, including works by Harvard students. Grayson was curious and wondered if Alison had contributed something to the exhibition as she took art as one of her subjects.

His eyes wandered across the room, admiring the elegant artwork on the walls. One oil painting, in particular, caught his eye. It was a painting of three kids laughing while they ran through a field of dandelions – two boys and a girl. The girl was behind, with a funny grin, like she was chasing the boys in a game. Grayson moved closer, and he instantly could tell it was Alison's painting. How? Well, it was the little girl's eyes. They were as blue as sapphires, just like the picture Grayson had seen of Alison at Alison's house in West Virginia.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

A young woman in her twenties approached Grayson's side. She wore a long black dress and high heels, her blond hair styled in elegant curls. "I'm Cora, and you must be Grayson Hawthorne, grandson of Tobias Hawthorne?"

Grayson responded with a simple nod, his attention still fixed on the painting.

Cora chuckled softly and turned her attention to the artwork. "Do you know who painted this?"

"Alison Emrys." He regretted saying the name almost instantly.

"You know her?"

Grayson's silver eyes met Cora's dark hazel eyes. Talking about Alison wasn't dangerous to say, but she technically didn't exist in legal records. Despite the small risk, Grayson was curious about Cora's knowledge – how did she know Alison painted this, or who Alison truly was?

"We met at Harvard," was all Grayson said. He expected her to ask him another question, but instead she said, "I've seen quite a few lovely paintings, but this one," she gestured toward the piece they were admiring, "it's exceptional. The way the artist captures the essence of childhood, the joy and innocence in those children's faces, it's simply remarkable."

Cora continued, facing Grayson. "I've been trying to learn more about the artist, but there's not much available."

Grayson stayed silent, his gaze still on the painting. Cora sensed his reluctance and attempted another question, her hazel eyes fixed on him. "Mr. Hawthorne-"

"Sometimes," Grayson interrupted, cutting her off. "Art speaks to us in ways words can't. As they say, 'A picture is worth a thousand words.'"

Grayson finally tore his gaze away from the painting and looked at Cora, his expression guarded. He was wary of her probing questions and her keen interest in Alison Emrys. He didn't know her intentions, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Cora had deliberately sought him out to discuss Alison.

Before Cora could respond, cheers and applause erupted from the other room. Cora's focus shifted momentarily as she turned toward the commotion. "It was nice talking to you, Mr. Hawthorne. Enjoy the rest of the event," she said with a polite smile.

And just like that, Cora walked away, leaving Grayson standing there, with his unanswered questions still lingering in the air. He watched her blend into the crowd, her black dress a stark contrast against the sea of elegant attire.

As the noise from the other room continued to swell, Grayson found himself deep in thought. He couldn't shake off the feeling that Cora's interest in Alison was more than casual curiosity. Who was Cora? How did she know that Grayson had connections to Alison? And most importantly, what did she want with Alison? 

Grayson turned his attention back to the captivating painting, finding solace in its vibrant colours and the innocence it portrayed. Questions swirled in his mind. Did Cora know that the boys in the painting were Hudson and William? Was she aware of the deeper implications behind this artwork? The pieces of the puzzle remained scattered, refusing to fit neatly together, and Grayson's insatiable curiosity continued to nag at him.

It dawned on him that this charity event held more secrets than met the eye. Perhaps Cora was a cog in Mason's well-oiled machine, tasked with the mission of surveillance Grayson. It seemed increasingly likely that Cora was collaborating with Mason, assigned to monitor Grayson's every move at the event, especially in regard to Alison. Her questions about Alison hinted at a knowledge of Grayson's efforts to free her.

Taking a deep breath, Grayson steeled himself for the evening ahead. Whoever Cora was, she posed a potential threat to him and Alison. The mystery surrounding Alison Emrys had just taken a darker turn, and Grayson was now more determined to uncover the truth, no matter the risks involved.