The three women stood in a circle, the only three people in the world who knew the painting hadn't been stolen by a rival gallery, but had been hidden here all along. Tiffany provided the location, Caprice provided the security, and Francesca provided the perfection.
"It's three in the morning," Francesca said, echoing Caprice but with a firmer, grounding tone. She walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the space between her and Caprice. "Sit. Stop thinking. You’re obsessing over the high-definition details of a life that needs to be lived in standard definition sometimes." The three women stood in a circle, the