January 17th, 1998- evening
[REDACTED]- Sela’s private storage facility, where she keeps her sculptures.
@hqwestwood
"Ah, Irena!” Sela purred as Irena’s car pulled up behind her own and she stepped out. “I must say, I’m so glad you reached out.” The call had seemed to be out of the blue, though she was sure the executive had some sort of agenda attached to it. Still, if it meant earning an extra payout for the month, Sela would never turn down a client’s wish to take stock of her inventory. “The right artwork truly just makes a space, you understand? And I’m sure I’ll be able to find something to suit your taste- one way or another.”














