He suddenly stood, leaned down, and gripped the arms of her wheelchair. The look in his eyes wasn’t one of affection or long-standing familiarity. It wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at someone he’d known and cared for his whole life. It was cold. Distant. Almost hateful.

“You don’t understand anything,” he said, his tone low and clipped. “You’re just talking. Elissa’s life is on the line. She’s waiting for me to bring her back—”

The truth slipped out—blurted without thought.

“What?” Linda blinked. “Her life’s on the line?”

Then she laughed. Loud and bitter. “Perfect. I’m still alive, and she’s the one dying? Good! Serves her right!”

Ernest’s eyes flickered. “Stop it. Don’t you dare curse her.”

His voice dropped, quieter now. Maybe to convince Linda—or himself. “She’s going to be fine. I’ll find her. I’ll bring her back safe.”

At that, Linda’s laughter faded. Her eyes stayed locked on his.

She hadn’t expected this.

He looked haggard, his face pale, dark circles shadowing his eyes. His voice trembled. And his eyes—red, swollen, wet. For a moment, Linda didn’t recognize him.

This wasn’t the Ernest she knew.

She’d never seen him like this. Not angry. Not frantic. Not… desperate.

“I’ll come back,” he said, standing upright again. “I’ll make good on what I owe you. I’ll keep my word.” Then he turned and walked out.

Linda sat frozen in place, her entire body limp, as if everything inside her had shattered.

That same afternoon, Ernest left Srixby.

At ten o’clock in the evening, Hadley finished her work and slowly removed her makeup, exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. As she stepped outside the film set, Eric stood waiting by the car, already holding the door open with practiced ease.

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The car pulled away from the curb and merged into the quiet evening traffic. Hadley pressed her hand against her mouth, fighting back a yawn that threatened to escape.

Eric’s brow furrowed with concern. “Tired?”

“Yeah,” Hadley nodded, her head feeling heavier than usual. Since filming began, her schedule had become absolutely relentless, stealing away precious hours of sleep she desperately needed. She dragged herself to the set by five or six each morning for makeup, and the evenings stretched endlessly before wrapping late. Tonight counted as an early finish.

When they shot night scenes, she frequently found herself working until dawn broke or pulling grueling all-nighters that left her hollow-eyed. When she factored in travel time between home and set, sleep became a rare and precious commodity.

Eric considered this for a moment, then gently suggested, “How about I book a suite for you at a hotel near the set?”

This way, she could eliminate the exhausting commute and steal back some much-needed rest.

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