Chapter 2 – The Camera Never Blinked
The little girl whimpered in her mother's arms as crimson drops stained the polished white floor of the Ashcroft Gallery.
No one moved.
Collectors, journalists, artists, and socialites stood frozen beneath million-dollar paintings, pretending not to notice the child who had just been struck.
The man in the brown suit—Gregory Whitmore, chairman of Whitmore Capital—straightened his cufflinks as if nothing unusual had happened.
"I caught her stealing," he announced loudly. "Someone like her shouldn't even be in this gallery."
His voice carried through the silent room.
Several guests nodded, unwilling to challenge one of the city's most influential businessmen.
The little girl buried her face against her mother's shoulder.
"I didn't take anything, Mommy..."
Her tiny voice shattered the silence.
The mother gently brushed her daughter's hair away from the wound on her forehead before slowly standing.
There was no panic left in her face.
Only absolute calm.
"You said she stole something," she said quietly.
Gregory sneered.
"I don't owe explanations to people like you."
She looked toward the ceiling.
A small red light blinked steadily above them.
"You should have checked the CCTV."
The sentence landed like a hammer.
For the first time, Gregory's confidence wavered.
The gallery's head of security suddenly stepped forward.
"Sir..."
He swallowed.
"The cameras have been recording continuously since this morning."
Gregory forced a laugh.
"So what?"
May you like
The mother answered before anyone else could.
"Because the recording begins long before you hit my daughter."
