Amelia was dragged away by her people, and the crew wrap party continued on Charles's orders.
The party seemed peaceful, but under the surface, there were turbulent waves; even Steven Wilson, the chief director seated at the front, felt like he was sitting on pins and needles.
Rosie initially was having a spat with Charles, but seeing him part the crowd and walk toward her, she had already forgiven him for the most part in her heart.
He squeezed Rosie's fingers and whispered in her ear, "Want to see me slowly at home? Right now your movie is playing on the screen, as the lead, how can you be distracted?"
Rosie felt her ears tickle, feeling a bit warm.
She wanted to pull her hand away but was held tightly by him.
At this moment, onscreen.
The film was showing a teenage boy and girl walking hand in hand along a field path.
The girl's short hair resembled black satin, glistening under the sun, a gentle breeze not too harsh, and her smile exuded warmth like spring.
