Medusalith was at work. And bored. Normally, she would take this time to work on something like learning to knit with her hair, but the blasted security cameras ruled out that option. So she was fussing with straightening the paintings and investigating the closet of cleaning supplies. She spent a good fifteen minutes trying to figure out what the vacuum cleaner was and how it worked, and finally just stuck it back in the closet, none the wiser.

The gallery was open.