Shadows Between Us (Stella and Sebastian) novel Chapter 238

Chapter 238

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That was why Victor had only muttered, “Nice stroke, pretty wild,” and figured the lettering looked familiar. He never dreamed someone could push handwriting into god-tier territory.

Victor said, “Well, today was a real eye-opener for us!”

Most folks in the room were just rubberneckers who couldn’t tell a fountain pen from a felt-tip; they were already losing it over Stella’s two-fisted drafting.

But once Camden started hollering about “Jefferson’s secret budget seal” and “dual-hand War Department script,” the whole place erupted: phones shot up, whistles flew, and everyone suddenly knew they were watching history in ink.

One said, “That’s insane!”

Another exclaimed, “Unreal!”

The crowd went wild, their shouts and exclamations crashing in one after another like waves. Everyone was losing their minds!

Celia was standing off to the side, watching everything unfold.

She heard the crowd lose their minds over Stella’s two-handed drafting, watched her lap up the applause like a rock star. Celia’s jealousy flared from simmer to boil.

She replied, “The canvas can be copied, the pigments analyzed. But how do you forge the layers of gallery labels and wax seals on the back of the stretcher that built up over generations?”

She flicked a frigid smile at Camden and said, “Mr. Cooper, with your rep, you know better than anybody: fresh sealing wax screams ‘forgery: Color, gloss, thickness-any kid with a loupe can clock a rookie mistake.”

Camden’s face instantly went cold.

He thought, ‘So that’s what she’s getting at. She’s basically calling me out for going easy on Stella.’

Camden said, “You-”

But before he could say more, someone drawled lazily and cut him off.

Stella said, “You’re right.”

Camden thought, ‘Is she seriously sabotaging herself right now?’

Stella calmly set her brush down on the rest, her eyes full of quiet confidence,

She said, “The sealing wax used then had to meet a specific standard: vivid color, fine texture, and it must not deteriorate even after a century.”

Her words flowed effortlessly, like she was spinning a tale, and everyone around her was completely drawn in.

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Chapter 238

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She added, “Break the seal, and you’ll smell clove and pine tar, just like the day Jefferson melted the first stick.

Celia, thinking she’d finally turned the tables, stepped forward and squared off with Stella from across the room. She didn’t realize that, to everyone watching, her face looked downright sinister.

Celia sneered, “So, you admit it? Mr. Cooper’s friends with you, and he’s helping you cover things up?”

Her tone was straight-up confrontational.

Landen, caught up in the crowd around Linda, snapped. “Bullshit!

“Everyone here can vouch for this: Mr. Cooper was called in by your side! What does any of this have to do with Dr. Miracle?” He waved his hands at the onlookers and asked, “Isn’t that right?”

The crowd shouted, “Exactly!

“That’s right! We can all vouch for it!”

Celia was at a loss for words.

It completely slipped her mind that it was Conrad who’d brought Camden in.

She sneaked a nervous look at Conrad, and sure enough, he was already giving her a dark, icy stare.

Stella casually lifted her hand, and the whole place instantly fell silent.

She gave a relaxed smile, instantly calming the restless crowd. She said, “I’ve got all the time today, so I’ll slap your faces raw, one by one.”

The folks from Elite Gallery just stood there, speechless.

Stella took a wet wipe from Jake, casually cleaning her hands as she said, “Vigil of the Gilded Scarecrow’ has survived to this day, passing through numerous eras and the hands of countless celebrated artists and esteemed collectors.

“It bears over forty distinct collector’s marks and seals, the majority of which originate from the latter dynastic period.”

Camden couldn’t help interjecting, “A solid third of them.”

Stella acknowledged him with a glance and moved to the other purported versions. “With the exception of this one seal from the later reign, the remaining thirteen were all impressed during the preceding imperial

era.”

Her hand gestured toward the notations on the documentation beside the canvas.

Everyone in the crowd was straining to get a better look, craning their necks in the direction she pointed, like a bunch of eager fans at a live demo, hungry to learn.

Stella glanced up at Celia and continued, “Earlier, you mentioned the sealing wax used for these stamps. Today, only two known blocks of the imperial-grade vermilion wax from that era remain.

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Chapter 238

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“One is preserved in the National Museum of Heritage, its color still vivid and its consistency unaltered. The other-”

Celia jumped in with a sarcastic laugh. She sneered, “Stella, don’t tell me you’re going to claim the other block is in your possession.”

Camden suddenly whipped his head around.

He stared at Stella in utter shock.

What nobody realized was that there was actually a little twist to the story behind the vermilion wax at the National Museum of Heritage.

The wax at the museum was actually a private donation.

And the donor was none other than the sole collector who currently possessed both of the surviving blocks of the historic vermilion wax.

Camden had only heard about it in passing during a casual dinner with some friends. The identity of the collector was the kind of secret nobody ever talks about, practically locked away in a vault.

Jake cleared his throat and pulled a fist-sized brass canister from his jacket.

He held it with both hands and gently set it down on the table.

Jake said, “Want me to open it, Ms. Carter?”

He was practically rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Stella said, “Open it.”

The instant the lid cracked, every armchair historian in the room lost it.

Camden felt a chill run down his spine from the scent alone. He didn’t hesitate. He slipped on his glasses, hands trembling as he leaned in for a closer inspection.

The crowd could barely contain itself. Everyone was itching to get in on the excitement, craning their necks for a better look.

Allan, though, was frozen in place. He slowly turned to glance at the cheap table where he and the old-timers had been snacking on peanuts just moments ago.

His eyes drifted downward.

Under the table, there sat a battered, grimy little wooden box, looking all beat-up and forgotten.

If Allan’s memory was right, Jake had shoved it into his hands right before they got out of the car, because he couldn’t juggle everything himself.

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