Chapter 2

Three days after the film festival ended, I received an invitation from a French production company.

They'd seen my award-winning work and wanted to collaborate on a cross-border crime thriller.

This was the project I'd given up in my past life. I'd remembered the producer's name for a full fifty years.

In that life, it had won Stella an international critics' award, with Stella Summers listed in the screenwriter credits.

While I was reviewing the contract in my studio, my phone lit up.

Ethan Lucas.

"Are you free tonight? There's something I want to discuss with you in person."

"What is it?"

"You'll know when you get here."

I didn't go.

He called three more times.

The fourth call came from Stella's number.

"Evelyn, why aren't you answering Ethan's calls? He's so worried."

"I'm busy."

"Busy with what? Did you take that foreign project?"

Her tone was as light as if she were asking what I'd had for dinner.

"Evelyn, is that kind of small-team project really worth your time? Ethan has a major production, Director Marcus Kane's project of the year. Everyone's fighting for it."

"He said this script can only be written by you."

A pause.

"And if you go to France, who will help me with my lines? Remember that crying scene? I revised it eight times before getting it right. Only the version you revised could I actually perform."

In my past life, the year I was pregnant, she'd said the exact same thing.

"Evelyn, if you leave, no one can revise my scripts. If I don't perform well, he'll be disappointed."

That time, I'd turned down a major director's invitation.

"You can find other screenwriters. There are plenty of good ones."

The other end of the line went silent for a long time.

Stella's voice suddenly carried a note of grievance.

"Evelyn, you've changed. You weren't like this before."

"Before, I gave up too much for you two."

"Gave up? What do you mean? Aren't we good friends? Isn't it normal for friends to help each other?"

She genuinely thought it was justified.

I hung up.

At eleven that night, someone knocked on my studio door.

Ethan stood outside, his suit jacket draped over his forearm, looking like he'd just rushed over from some event.

"Since you won't answer your phone, I had to come in person."

"How did you know I was here?"

"I have my ways."

He leaned against the doorframe, his expression mild.

"I looked into the French project. The production team there isn't mature. It's too risky for you to go alone."

"That's not your concern."

"I'm not concerned--I just don't want you wasting your time."

He looked at me, his tone slowing.

"Stay domestic and work with me. If you write the script for Marcus Kane's film, winning an award is a sure thing."

"I don't need to win awards through you."

His expression cracked slightly, like he'd been stung, but he quickly recovered that composed smile.

"Still upset. That's okay. I'll wait for you to come around."

He pulled a business card from his pocket and placed it on the table.

It bore his management company's logo and a title I'd never seen before: Associate Producer.

He'd already positioned me as a piece on his chessboard. He just hadn't informed me yet.

"By the way, I already spoke to Marcus Kane, told him you'd write this script."

I looked up at him.

"You said what?"

"I secured you a credited screenwriter position. The terms are very good."

He said it casually, as if notifying me of something already decided.

I didn't ask if he'd consulted me.

In my past life, he never asked either.

When he needed me, he arranged everything. When he didn't, he wouldn't even make a phone call.

"You can decline it for me."

He paused as he pulled the door open to leave, then looked back at me.

"You won't actually leave this industry. You can't leave here, and you can't leave me."

The door closed.

The business card still sat on the table.

As I picked it up to throw in the trash, my phone vibrated.

A number I'd saved long ago but never dialed sent me a message.

"Evelyn, I'm in France and happen to know the producer you mentioned. If you need help, you can contact me. Vincent Gould."