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.

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

was, fragile yet not weak, stronger than

Tyrone escorted Quintessa downstairs.

and casually said: "You're up. Go drink that

York had prepared a glass of milk for

to Quintessa, and she murmured:

I had Wilma add some sugar. It

looked at the table, noticing there wasn't a second glass and asked: "Mom, where's

her head: "You? Wilma, get him a bottle

I feel like I'm

York looked puzzled:

laughed out loud,

seeing her smile, no matter the

when I thought you were being sensible and smart, you turn around

shrugged: "I can't

linger on the topic: "Mom, Quinn has to go

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