“Wasn’t a vase there?” I asked.

“Mm. Vases should be in glass cases.” The sliest of smiles. I actually look beneath her perch, expecting to see shards of Etruscan pottery or Ming Dynasty china. It’s bare, save for some fine…powder. “Yeah,” she said. “No shit, the vase broke and the staff went crazy. How else would I able to sit here?” “Are you on display?” Now I know what all the yelling that I’d heard from the other wing was about. “Seems I am for you,” she replies, tilting her head to catch the light. “Verdict?”