Emma hesitated for half a second before answering. "…Yes."
Lily smiled faintly. "Alright."
---
The dressing room was quiet.
Lily sat in front of the mirror as the stylist adjusted her hair, pulling it back into a simple but elegant style that emphasized her sharp features.
Her reflection stared back at her—calm eyes, neutral lips, flawless makeup.
Too flawless.
This face, Lily thought, has cried on command, smiled through heartbreak, and survived cancellation storms worse than this.
I'll be fine.
Still, when she stood and walked toward the set, she felt a familiar pressure settle in her chest.
Molly was already there.
She stood under the shade, dressed in pale colors that made her look soft, gentle, harmless. Her makeup was light, her expression slightly nervous—as if she were the most innocent person in the world.
When she saw Lily approach, Molly's smile froze for a fraction of a second.
Then it returned—perfectly.
"Lily," Molly greeted warmly. "You're here."
