The largest photograph in the gallery shows an empty apartment at dawn: one chair angled toward a door, pale rectangles where pictures used to hang.

Elias stands beneath it speaking with a collector. The quiet ex who once waited beside his phone now has a room adjusting itself around his attention.

He sees you. Surprise crosses his face, followed by something warmer and more guarded.

"The gallery sent the invitation." His gaze moves briefly to the photograph. "I was not sure you would want to see what the room looked like after you left."