"Wait, the cameraman..." Debra said.

"Forget about him," Juan responded.

Debra was baffled. "Where did you get the money?"

Since the first day of filming the show, their phones had been handed in. The only phone Juan had now was issued by the production team, and it only had a few emergency contacts. "This car is owned by my family. We don't need to pay."

His explanation sent Debra into a deep spiral of thought. 'Since when did the Nichols family have anything to do with taxi service?'

Not long after, the taxi pulled up to the beach. The moment it arrived, the production team members stared, bewildered.

The director hurried forward, confused.

"Did we send a car for them?"

"Nope."

Debra and Juan stepped out, one after the other, onto the sand.

The director ruffled his hair. 'Why aren't these two following the rules of the show?'

camera guy

in. Said he lost them. He won't be here

rubbed his temples.

a smile on his face, he greeted them, "Ms. Frazier, Mr. Nichols, how did your

Debra replied, forcing

lie. They had at least

Juan said coolly, which in his language meant, "She didn't

distant from each other, the

here's the thing. Our show

know. Like revisiting memories and sorting out old issues. That's our main draw.

in the

cameraman gets here, we

heads-up. We would appreciate it if you avoided taking taxis. Instead,

hopeful.

Debra quickly nodded. "Sure."

Juan replied, "Me too."

hands, relieved that they weren't difficult to

the out-of-breath cameraman finally arrived. When he saw the director, his face lit up with

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