We finally reached the entrance.
Anamarija stepped forward and walked up to the ticket counter.
"How many tickets do you need?" the woman behind the counter asked.
Anamarija quickly counted everyone.
"Nine, please."
She paid for all the tickets and handed them out to everyone.
"Here you go," she said.
Chai immediately took his ticket and looked at it curiously.
"So this is my ticket to see all the art?"
Anamarija laughed.
"Exactly."
Chak stood beside me, looking around the entrance hall.
"Thank you, Anamarija."
She smiled.
"You're welcome. I thought it would be nice for all of us to experience something different today."
We handed our tickets to the staff member at the entrance and finally stepped inside.
The moment we entered the gallery, the atmosphere changed.
It was quiet and peaceful.
The high ceilings, elegant halls, large windows, and beautifully decorated interiors immediately caught our attention.
Everyone slowed down as we looked around.
"Wow," Malai whispered.
Suraphom nodded.
"This place is beautiful."
Kit looked up toward the ceiling.
"I didn't expect it to be this grand."
Even Torn, who usually tried to act unimpressed by everything, stopped for a moment and looked around in amazement.
Chai walked a few steps ahead of us.
"Where do we start?"
Anamarija smiled.
"We'll take our time. There's no need to rush."
We began walking through the first exhibition room.
Large paintings covered the walls, each one surrounded by small plaques explaining the artist, the title, and the history behind the work.
I immediately found myself drawn toward one of the paintings.
I stepped closer.
The details were incredible.
The brushwork, the lighting, the expressions on the people's faces...
I could almost feel the artist's intention behind every stroke.
Chak noticed that I had stopped.
He came to stand beside me.
"You like it?"
I nodded slowly.
"Very much."
He looked at the painting, then at me.
"I can tell."
I smiled.
"What?"
"You have that expression."
"What expression?"
"The one you get when you're already thinking about how you would paint it yourself."
I laughed softly.
"Maybe I am."
Chak smiled.
"I knew it."
A few steps away, Anamarija was explaining another painting to Chai.
"Look at the colors," she said. "Do you see how the artist used light here?"
Chai leaned closer.
"Yes."
He pointed at the painting.
"And why is that person looking over there?"
Anamarija smiled.
"That's part of the story. You'll have to read the description."
Chai immediately walked closer to the information plaque.
"Oh."
He read it carefully.
Everyone laughed when his expression suddenly became extremely serious.
"I'm learning."
"Very impressive," Torn teased.
Chai turned around.
"I might become an art expert today."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Kit said with a laugh.
We continued through the gallery, moving from one room to another.
There were paintings everywhere.
Some were enormous and dramatic, while others were smaller and more intimate.
We saw portraits, landscapes, religious scenes, sculptures, and works from different periods of Slovenian art.
Every room seemed to have something new waiting for us.
Anamarija stayed near the front, occasionally stopping to explain something.
Sometimes Kit would read the descriptions aloud.
Other times Malai and Suraphom would quietly discuss which artwork they liked the most.
Torn mostly listened, while Chai had somehow become fascinated by every sculpture he saw.
At one point, he stood in front of a statue with his arms crossed, studying it carefully.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
He looked at me seriously.
"I'm trying to understand what he was thinking when he made this."
I smiled.
"That's probably exactly what you're supposed to do."
Chak chuckled beside me.
"He's taking this very seriously."
"I told you," Chai replied. "I'm becoming an art expert."
We all laughed.
As we continued walking, I found myself becoming more and more absorbed in the artwork.
There was something peaceful about being surrounded by so much history.
Every painting felt like a small window into another time.
I occasionally stopped to take a closer look, and Chak patiently waited for me every time.
At one point, I noticed him watching me instead of the painting.
"What?" I asked.
He smiled.
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I know."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling.
Anamarija noticed and shook her head.
"You two are hopeless."
Chak simply smiled.
We continued our tour through the gallery, taking our time and enjoying every room.
For the first time that morning, nobody was rushing anywhere.
There were no meetings.
No schedules.
No arguments about waking up at three-thirty in the morning.
Just all of us together, quietly exploring the beautiful art around us.
And somehow, that made the day feel perfect.
After a few minutes, we entered the next large space.
Anamarija was walking a little ahead of us when she suddenly stopped.
"Wait," she said.
We all looked at her.
Anamarija turned toward a large painting hanging on the wall.
"You have to see this one."
We walked closer.
The moment I saw the painting, I stopped.
It was a beautiful painting by Ivana Kobilica.
Summer.
The colors were soft, and the warm light gave the entire scene a peaceful, almost nostalgic feeling.
For a few moments, we all stood there quietly, looking at it.
Then Chai suddenly pointed at the painting.
"Wait."
Torn stepped closer.
"I know that painting."
Malai looked at it and then glanced at the others in surprise.
"We have that painting at home."
Anamarija froze for a moment.
"What?"
Chak nodded.
"Yeah. It's hanging in our family house."
Torn nodded as well.
"In the hallway."
Malai smiled.
"Exactly. In the hallway, when you walk from the living room toward the stairs."
Anamarija stared at them for a few seconds.
"Really?"
All four of them nodded.
"Really."
Anamarija looked at me, then at Chak, and then back at the painting.
"Wait... you actually have Summer by Ivana Kobilica at home?"
Chak, who had been quietly looking at the painting, nodded.
"Yes."
Anamarija raised her eyebrows.
"How did you get it?"
Chak smiled slightly.
"I think my father brought it home one afternoon."
Anamarija looked surprised.
"Just like that?"
Chak chuckled.
"As far as I remember, yes."
Chai nodded.
"I remember when they hung it up."
Torn smiled.
Malai looked at the painting with a slightly dreamy expression.
"I used to look at it every time I walked past."
Anamarija was still staring at them, as if she was trying to process what they had just told her.
"That's actually incredible."
Chak looked back at the painting.
"It has been hanging in our house for a very long time. I guess I'm so used to seeing it that I never really thought about the fact that it's here."
"Yeah," Chak added.
Chai was still looking at the painting.
"I think I'll look at it differently when we get home now."
Torn laughed.
"Why?"
"Because now I know it's in a gallery."
Everyone laughed.
Anamarija stepped a little closer to the painting.
"Well, then you have an even better reason to look at it today."
Chak glanced at me.
I smiled.
There was something strangely special about seeing the four of them recognize the same painting that had been part of their home for years.
And now we were all standing in front of it together, inside a gallery where it belonged to the history of Slovenian art.
Anamarija was still looking at the painting when she suddenly turned toward Suraphom.
"You'll definitely know why that painting is hanging in their house."
Suraphom immediately looked a little uncomfortable.
"I..."
He hesitated, glancing briefly at Anamarija.
Everyone looked at him, waiting for his answer.
Finally, he sighed softly.
"Because of you."
Anamarija's eyebrows lifted.
"Because of me?"
Suraphom nodded.
"Because it's your favorite painting."
For a moment, Anamarija simply stared at him.
Then a small smile appeared on her lips.
"I knew it."
She looked back at the painting.
"I knew there was no way it could have ended up there by coincidence."
Chak turned toward her, clearly surprised.
"This is your favorite painting?"
Anamarija nodded.
"Yes."
She smiled softly as she looked at Summer.
"I just don't know how our father knew."
She turned her eyes toward Suraphom.
Suraphom gave her an apologetic little smile.
"I told him."
Anamarija narrowed her eyes slightly.
"You told him?"
Suraphom nodded.
"Well..."
He paused, looking a little embarrassed.
"I heard it from you."
Anamarija crossed her arms.
"And how exactly did you hear it from me?"
Suraphom hesitated again.
"I asked the tour guide to listen in on what you were saying. Four years ago."
Anamarija's eyes widened.
"You did what?"
A few people immediately started laughing.
Suraphom raised his hands defensively.
"I just asked her to pay attention to what you were talking about."
Chai looked at him in disbelief.
"You had someone spy on her?"
"I wouldn't call it spying," Suraphom said quickly.
Torn laughed.
"That's exactly what spying is."
Suraphom ignored him.
"She later told me that you had said Summer was your favorite painting."
Anamarija shook her head, but she was smiling.
"So you secretly asked the guide to listen to me just so you could find out what my favorite painting was?"
Suraphom nodded.
"Yes."
"And then you told my father?"
"Yes."
Anamarija looked at him for a long moment.
Then she smiled again.
"You're unbelievable."
Suraphom smiled.
"But it worked."
Anamarija glanced back at the painting.
"It certainly did."
Chak looked between the two of them, still processing everything.
"So that's why it's been hanging in your house all these years?"
Anamarija nodded.
"Apparently."
She looked at Summer once more.
"I never knew my father had remembered that."
Chak smiled.
"Our father must have really wanted you to have something that meant a lot to you."
Anamarija's expression softened.
"Yeah."
She stood quietly for another moment, looking at the painting.
Then she glanced at Suraphom.
"And apparently I have you to thank for it."
Suraphom smiled.
"You're welcome."
Anamarija shook her head with a quiet laugh.
"I still can't believe you asked someone to listen to me."
Everyone laughed again.
Suraphom simply shrugged.
"I wanted to know. The painting in their house is a copy. In Thailand I found someone who's copy the paintings to the canvas."
Chai grinned.
"That's actually kind of sweet."
Torn immediately nodded.
"Very sweet."
Malai smiled.
"I think so too."
Anamarija rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face.
And as we all stood there looking at Summer, the painting suddenly felt like more than just a beautiful piece of art.
It was connected to a memory, a secret, and a small story that had followed Anamarija all the way from her home to the walls of the gallery.