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I’m so proud to see her coming out of her shell and taking the initiative. The ways she flourishes when Theresa is absent is telling.

“I do care about her,” I say, turning back toward Paxton.

His features shift, and I can only describe it as admiration, as if he’s seeing me as someone entirely different. It’s almost like the way a sculptor might look at his marble masterpiece after hours of chiseling away, marveling at how far it has come from what it was before.

I was always this person, Paxton.

“I was wrong before.” His eyes glisten with an emotion that transcends words, and I can feel my heart melting. “About you.” His voice is gentle yet strong, like a warm summer breeze ruffling the leaves of a tall tree.

I stand stock-still, shocked and overwhelmed. My cheeks flush with warmth, the air around us suddenly electric. I can feel myself being drawn in deeper by the intensity of his gaze.

“Thank you,” I whisper, stepping closer to him without conscious thought.

There is something so powerful about the way he looks at me that my breath catches in my throat. I’m rendered speechless.

It’s like he’s finally seeing me for who I really am, like he finally sees past the shadow my father casts.

“No, thank you,” he murmurs back, his voice like velvet as it wraps around me.

“For what?”

“For giving this your all. For not backing down when I gave you a hard time. For trying to fix this movie. Because I think we all need this movie to pan out.”

“I certainly do.” My lips slowly part into a smile, which he returns. A strange feeling settles over me, but not a bad one; nope, it’s almost like clarity. An understanding that this moment is important. This is when everything changes.

He doesn’t want to hate me anymore, and I don’t hate him at all.

As Teagan and Brad rehearse, Paxton and I fall into a comfortable silence.

But unfortunately, it doesn’t last for long because a screech rings out in the air, and if I’m not mistaken, the loud noise came from Teagan.

Before anyone confirms my suspicions, I take off, dashing across the space. Please, no more drama. I’ve had enough of that for the next century.

The closer I get, the more nervous I become.

She’s no longer standing. Now she’s on the ground, and her one hand is lifted, clutching her other arm.

As I rush to her side, my heart pounds in my chest so hard that it feels like it’s ready to climb up and out of my throat.

People are shouting, but I don’t stop to listen. I drop to my knees beside her, trying to assess what’s wrong.

Her face is a mask of fear, her eyes wide and unblinking.

I reach across and take her arm in my hand. That’s when I see blood. It’s started seeping out of what looks like a deep scratch on her arm. It’s an angry red line that is striking compared to her pale skin.

Gently, I touch her shoulder. “What happened?”

“I-I don’t know.” She looks over at the fake spear. “It stabbed me when I was rehearsing the scene.”

“That shouldn’t be possible,” I say. “Isn’t the one you’re supposed to use during this scene rubber?”

“Yes,” Teagan stammers.

“Shit. Are you okay?” I ask. “Can someone get me a first-aid kit?” I yell out, and people around me scramble.

As if waking from a trance, she nods slowly. “Y-Yes,” she says in a small voice. “It was just a scare and a scrape. I’ll be okay.”

We look at each other, and we both let out a breath. A feeling of relief sweeps over me. It could have been worse.

I pick up the spear to find it’s not the rubber one she’s supposed to use. Didn’t she realize that?

Probably not. When Teagan is in character, she’s so focused on her lines that an error like this can easily occur if those responsible for the safety measures are sleeping on the job. There will be severe consequences when I find out who put this here. Right now, I’m focused on cleaning her up and making sure she doesn’t get an infection.

I wrap my arm around Teagan’s shoulders to comfort her. I know right now she needs me to give her strength. My strength.

A few minutes later, crew members come running up to us with towels, bandages, and antiseptic.

“It’s nothing.” She tries to brush them off.

“It’s not nothing. Even if you’re going to be okay, it’s not nothing,” I tell Teagan, squeezing her tighter against me. She looks up at me with a small smile of understanding and a sparkle of thankfulness in her eyes.

I’ve known her long enough to recognize when she needs me. Since she will never get compassion from Theresa, I will be that person in her life.

“I’m going to let them clean you up and get to the bottom of this,” I say, lifting the spear.

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