Nalani rode a taxi back to their apartment, her spirits low after the intense day. The city lights blurred past her window as she replayed the conversation with her aunt and the mysterious encounter at the exhibit. When the taxi pulled up to her building, she paid the driver and stepped out, the cool night air brushing against her skin. She started walking down the pavement with her head down, lost in thought.

Suddenly, she heard hurried footsteps behind her. "Hey, where the heck were you? Zaire and I got worried, and you didn't even send a single text. I called a few times, and we even drove to the apartment to check if you were there," Lena's worried voice broke through Nalani's fog. Nalani continued walking, seemingly unfazed by Lena's concern.

"Are you quite alright? You missed the exhibit," Lena said, her voice tinged with anxiety. She reached out, gently lifting Nalani's chin to take a good look at her face. Nalani's expression was distant, her eyes reflecting the weight of the day's events. Lena grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket and started patting Nalani's face, which was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Nalani seemed to be in a daze, her mind still processing everything that had happened. "I'm sure we'll get to see those paintings before they all get sold if we're early tomorrow," Lena said, trying to lift her spirits.

"No, it's fine," Nalani finally answered, her voice quiet but steady. Lena stopped walking for a moment, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I actually was able to see them," Nalani added, her gaze drifting to some distant point.

"But the exhibit was only for three hours, and we saw it closed because we were hoping to see you when the crowd had gone," Lena said, her voice filled with puzzlement.

Nalani sighed deeply, gathering her thoughts before speaking again. "I arrived late. By the time I got there, the gallery was almost empty. But the door was open, so I let myself in." She paused, her mind replaying the vivid images of the flower paintings. "The paintings were incredible, Lena. Every single one of them."

Lena listened intently, sensing there was more to the story. "Why didn't you text or call? We were really worried," she asked softly, her concern evident.

"I'm sorry," Nalani replied, looking down at her feet. "I got caught up in something with Aunt Lydia. It took longer than I expected, and I lost track of time."

Lena frowned. "Your aunt? What happened?"

Nalani took a deep breath. "She was acting really strange. She kept talking about family business and Uncle Henley, and then she started suggesting that she could manage Mom's foundation. It felt like she had an agenda."

Lena's eyes widened. "Did she say anything about your dad?"

"Yes," Nalani said, her voice growing more frustrated. "She knew he was sick. I never told her that, Lena. She was fishing for information, and it made me uncomfortable."

Lena put a comforting hand on Nalani's shoulder. "That sounds tough. I'm sorry you had to deal with that alone."

"It's okay," Nalani said, her voice softening. "But then, at the exhibit... something strange happened."

Lena's eyes lit up with curiosity. "What happened?"

Nalani hesitated, replaying the moment in her mind. "I was looking at the Gardenia painting, really absorbed in it, when a voice spoke to me. It was a man, hidden in the shadows. He talked about the story behind the brushstrokes. And just when I was about to ask him more, the lights went out."

Lena's jaw dropped. "Do you think it was the artist?"

"I don't know," Nalani admitted, her eyes reflecting the mystery of the encounter. "But whoever it was, they left a deep impression on me. I feel like I need to know more."

Lena squeezed Nalani's hand. "We'll figure it out together. But right now, you need rest. Let's get you inside."

****

The next morning, Nalani and Lena found themselves outside Paris de la Reine, the private gallery where the exhibit was held. Thanks to Lena's connections, they had secured an exclusive invitation. The air was crisp and filled with the subtle hum of early morning traffic. Nalani sat on a bench, lost in thought, while Lena stood beside her, glancing around eagerly.

"The both of you are quite early," Zaire called out as he approached them, having just parked his car.

Lena smiled and waved. "The paintings are selling today, so we wanted to take a chance to see more of them before they get sold," she explained, then signaled to Zaire to look at Nalani, who was still deep in thought. "Good morning, Nalani," he greeted her.

It took a moment for Nalani to register his presence. "Oh, hey, Zaire. Morning," she replied bluntly without looking up.

Lena gave Zaire a shrug and whispered, "She's okay."

At 9 a.m., the gallery doors opened. There were already numerous journalists gathered outside, but thanks to their early arrival and the gallery host's special accommodation, they were allowed in an hour earlier. The gallery was bathed in a soft, ambient light that highlighted the beauty of the paintings on display.

"Nali, come here," Lena said, grabbing Nalani's hand and leading her to the painting of The Gardenia. "Zaire said there are two of these. The first one was sold to our school. I was surprised because I never saw it all the years we studied there."

"I only found out recently as well. It's in the library," Nalani told her, causing Lena to look surprised.

"How come I never saw it? It was there all this time?" Lena asked.

"We rarely go to the library, and besides, it's a bit hard to notice since it was not placed visibly for anyone to see," Nalani explained.

"They say the first painting was dedicated to your mom," Zaire whispered to both of them as he approached.

"Oh really? How about this one? Was this dedicated to someone too? I mean, he painted two of these," Lena asked, watching Zaire jot down notes in his pocket notebook.

"Hm, I'm not sure. He hasn't accepted any interviews since then, so all media can only do is write about his paintings. We don't know what he looks like. All we know is that he is a boy or should I say 'a man' now," Zaire added while continuing to write in his notebook.

"I guess he's selling this too," Nalani said, feeling a bit sad, thinking that whoever gets to buy it would be so lucky.

"I guess you could tell how much it's worth just from the brushstrokes, I'm guessing. But no, he's not selling it this time either," Zaire said, making both Lena and Nalani turn to look at him, waiting for an explanation. He put down his pen and closed his notebook before looking up at both of them. "Uh, well, as you know, this is one of his first paintings along with the other Gardenia painting. He never sold those two until Malina's unfortunate passing, but he only ever accepted offers from art schools that would keep on remembering her name. Otis College was first on the list, so he sold it to them, but he refused to sell this as well. The owner's secretary personally told me herself. So, I guess this is for showcase purposes only as part of his flower collection," Zaire explained in detail.

Both Lena and Nalani pondered over this information. "I wonder why he won't sell it. I'm sure a lot of rich enthusiasts have been wanting to get this in their hands even if it takes them a large sum of money," Nalani wondered aloud.

"Well, maybe Lena is right. That it's dedicated to someone as well. A Gardenia symbolizes a 'secret love', after all," Zaire added as he walked away towards the other paintings. Lena followed him, leaving Nalani to her thoughts.

Nalani scanned the room, her eyes lingering on each painting. "I guess every painting does symbolize and mean something," she said to herself, feeling a deep connection to the art around her. She thought about her mother and how much these paintings must have meant to her. The delicate brushstrokes, the vibrant colors, each one telling a story of love, loss, and inspiration.