Tyrone whispered, "You're awake."

Hearing Tyrone's voice, Quintessa snapped to full awareness, quickly sitting up: "How long have I slept?"

"It's still early, barely past 4 PM."

"That late?" Quintessa quickly threw off the covers and got out of bed.

Tyrone stopped her: "Where are you going?"

Quintessa tucked her hair behind her ears: "I need to get to the set."

Tyrone pushed her back down: "Look at you, you're as pale as a ghost. You're not going anywhere."

"But I have to. I have scenes tonight, and there's not much left. We could wrap up by this week. I can't delay everyone's schedule." Seeing her insistence, Tyrone could only say: "It's not even dark yet. What's the rush? Let's have dinner, and I'll drive you there."

Quintessa nodded: "Okay!"

Tyrone frowned slightly: "You're a woman; don't push yourself too hard."

"I'm not."

Tyrone chuckled coldly.

didn't bring up her car accident, nor did he offer any words of comfort, because Quintessa wasn't someone who sought comfort. Like a lizard that's lost its tail, she might hurt, but she didn't

who she was, fragile yet not weak, stronger than

Tyrone escorted Quintessa downstairs.

York looked up and casually said: "You're

Mrs. York had prepared a glass of milk for

to Quintessa, and she

had Wilma add some sugar. It won't taste

there wasn't a second glass

York scratched her head: "You? Wilma,

why do I feel like

looked puzzled: "Were you

loud,

content. He loved seeing her smile, no matter the kind - even if it was fierce or mischievous, as

you were being sensible and smart, you turn around and tease

"I

"Mom, Quinn has to go

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