It landed soundlessly on the ground.
"I am late," Lily murmured.
"And there is no one left to scold me anymore."
The line was simple.
Almost plain.
Yet when her knees touched the floor and her fingers brushed against the hem of her dress, something shifted in the air.
Director David's fingers tightened around the monitor.
This wasn't technique.
This wasn't something taught in acting classes or refined through years of training.
This was instinct.
Pain that had fermented too long to be hidden.
"Cut."
No one moved.
"Cut!" he repeated, louder this time.
Still, the set remained frozen.
Lily Martins stayed kneeling where she was, chest rising and falling unevenly, her lashes trembling as if she had only just been pulled back from somewhere far away.
Then—
"That was good," Director David said slowly.
"No… that was more than good."
He turned toward the stunned crew.
"Reset for the next angle."
Only then did the world seem to breathe again.
