Gifteds: And Then There Were None

Chapter 3. XII

Salwa was already busy testing out everything that was displayed on the shelves in her room. There were stacks of canvas, a wide assortment of paint brushes in various sizes, and a dazzling array of paint. There was watercolour, acrylic, and even oil paint just begging to be mixed. Salwa's fingers were itching with delight. She removed one of the smaller canvases and set it on the large painting easel in the corner. She was in the process of looking for a palette, when a piece of paper came loose from behind the canvas. Her eyes widened when she recognized what it was.

The Mona Lisa has been stolen! A forgery was discovered in its place!

A note had been hastily scrawled on the back

You've got talent, I'll give you that

The sudden flashback took her by surprise. She leaned against the wall for support, and slowly closed her eyes. The scene was so vivid. The stormy grey sky, the busy Paris streets, the patter of rain as it hit the sidewalk, and the dampness of the cool autumn air. She remembered sneaking into the museum in broad daylight, switching the paintings, and leaving with the buzz of adrenaline still fresh in her mind. She even arrived home in time for afternoon tea. It was weeks before they suspected a thing, but by then, she was out of the country, and well on her way to a another great heist. Salwa opened her eyes. She remembered the anger she felt when her sales had come to a sudden halt. She was mad, mad at her usual buyers, mad at the other successful artists, mad at the world really. She threw the paper into a cup of water, letting the ink dissolve into it. She then tipped the glass forward and poured the water into the potted plant on the windowsill. Salwa then grimaced, turned up her nose and went back to painting.