Chapter 5 Setting a Trap and Waiting for Her to Jump In

"Double? One million dollars a painting?!" Lena forgot all about her decision to be Ella's ghost painter — just the price alone left her speechless.

Lena: [She'd have to be crazy to agree to this, right?]

Laura: [She doesn't have a choice. The tickets for the July exhibition are already sold out. If she can't deliver the paintings, her reputation is done. To save her name, what's a few million dollars?]

Lena: [Laura, you're ruthless! But there are barely any artists who can paint at that level. If she asks who painted them, what am I supposed to say? I can't exactly say it's you.]

Laura: [Of course not. Just say it's a classmate of mine, or someone who studied under the same teacher. Either way, Ella doesn't have the eye to tell the difference.]

Lena: [Got it, I'm on it! But I still don't get it — what are you after? Wouldn't it be better to watch her crash and burn? Aren't you basically bailing her out by doing this?]

Bailing her out?

Laura smiled.

She wasn't that generous. She was going to take back everything she had lost — every last bit of it.

Once everything was arranged, Laura put her phone away, hailed a cab, and headed back to her small apartment.

She opened her laptop and logged into an account she hadn't touched in a long time.

The username was Lora — she'd created it back when she was still living in the orphanage.

She had just started learning to paint then, with no teacher, just online tutorials to practice from.

She'd photograph her finished pieces and post them online, and somehow, little by little, she built up a following — loyal fans who had watched her grow from the very beginning.

Since she rarely posted and never tried to grow her audience, the follower count had always stayed small.

Then the Garcias took her back, and she became Ella's ghost painter. After that, she never logged in again.

The account had gone three years without an update. She had no idea how many of her followers were still waiting for her.

Under her most recent post, the latest comment was from three weeks ago.

[Lora, are you still painting? You haven't posted in so long — please tell me you haven't quit. Don't do that to us!]

She scrolled through the comments below — every single one was from someone who cared. As she read, Laura's eyes started to sting.

There were still people in this world who genuinely loved her.

Strangers who admired her talent, who worried about her, while the people closest to her had only ever put her down, dismissed her, and turned her into a ghost painter.

She wiped her eyes and posted a new update:

[I'm back.]

The photo was a close-up of a small piece she'd been working on recently — just a partial shot.

She figured most of her followers had long since moved on. But less than ten minutes after posting, the comments were already flooding in.

[Lora is back?!]

[Damn it — she's alive!]

[The brushwork is so delicate. Lora's style is still so distinctive.]

[Welcome home!]

[I never gave up on you. So glad you're back!]

Reading through the comments, Laura couldn't help but smile. She felt moved and excited all at once.

Her DM notifications were going off nonstop. She opened them — most were messages from fans saying hello.

But one message made her finger stop.

The sender's username was Granite. Their profile picture was a stretch of open sea.

The message was short: [Long time no see. Welcome back.]

Laura stared at that username for a long moment.

She knew this person.

Three years ago, when she was still active, Granite had left comments on her work all the time.

He understood her paintings in a way that went deeper than most — he could always pick up on the feelings she hid inside them.

Once, she painted a rainy night street scene. Everyone said it was too dark, too heavy, the kind of image that made it hard to breathe.

Only Granite commented: [You seem to be in a pretty good mood lately. Did something nice happen?]

That one stopped her cold.

He was right. She had painted it on her birthday. Emily had given her a gift — a colorful gemstone necklace. She had been so moved she cried, even though she later found out it was just a freebie from a jewelry store for customers who spent over ten million, something Ella had turned down and didn't want.

But for those few days, she really had been happy.

Back then, she'd wondered if he could read minds.

She had tested him — he knew nothing about her personal life, so he wasn't anyone she knew in real life.

Once she ruled that out, there was only one explanation: he simply understood her. He could read the emotions she buried in her brushstrokes.

They had exchanged a few private messages, and every time, Laura felt completely at ease — like talking to an old friend she'd known for years.

Then she was forced into being Ella's ghost painter, stopped logging in, and lost touch with him entirely.

She hadn't expected him to still remember her.

Laura opened the message, hesitated for a few seconds, and typed back: [Long time no see. You still remember me?]

She sent it. The reply came almost instantly.

Granite: [Of course I do. I've been waiting for you to come back! You were gone so long I got worried — I thought something had happened to you. I actually filed a missing persons report. The police told me you were fine, and that's the only reason I calmed down.]

Laura's heart skipped a beat.

So that was it. Three years ago, when the police had shown up out of nowhere, someone had been thinking of her all along.

That feeling of being cared for was something Laura had never been able to resist.

She stared at the screen, not sure what to say.

Granite: [The new piece is great. There's something about it — like rising from the ashes. Looks like something big changed in your life. Should I say congratulations?]

This time, Laura was genuinely surprised.

Laura: [I only posted a small detail of it! And you can still tell all that?]

Granite: [Knew it — I was right!]

Granite: [By the way, why does your painting have a 'K' mark on it? That part I couldn't figure out. Does it mean something?]

Through the screen, Laura smiled quietly: [Nothing special. Just a signature. From now on, all my paintings will be signed that way.]

And that signature — that was the gift she was leaving for Ella after her rebirth.

She hoped Ella was ready for it.