Their eyes met, both surprised to see each other.

Vernon stared at Briony, stunned.

It was a long moment before he finally stood up, looked at her, and asked, "Are you the owner of this gallery?"

Briony approached, eyeing the boy's serious expression-so mature for someone so young. After a pause, she said, "You're still a minor. If you want to sign up for classes, you'll have to bring a parent or guardian."

"My mom doesn't care about what I do." Vernon looked straight at Briony; although he was only eight, he spoke with the composure of an adult. "I can make my own decisions. Sunday afternoons are mine to spend however I want."

For a boy his age, he already had an air of authority about him.

To put it plainly, he seemed far too grown up.

But he was Xenia Cooper's son-Stewart's stepson.

Briony didn't much want to take him on.

"I'm sorry," she replied, her tone strictly professional. "Our gallery doesn't admit minors without parental consent. That's the policy."

"Is it because my mom is Xenia Cooper that you don't want to let me in?"

"Yes. So let's not force this. I run a business, but I don't have to take

in international competitions," Vernon

left speechless. For someone so

heir. You have all the opportunities you could want.

Vernon froze.

flash of

it mean he couldn't even have the chance

hated being the Cooper

didn't like

obvious that even the parents waiting nearby

to Briony. "Ms. Kensingtoet he really seems eager to

in, "Yes, Ms. Kensington, he clearly loves painting—and he's got a mind of his own,

lite with a sigh, she relented a you know how to paint with

Vernon nodded. "I do."

from the wall and

Vernon's gaze swept over the artwork displayed on the

Briony's own

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