Chapter 208
"Cut!"
The director's shout cut through the set.
Everyone froze.
Emily stood in front of the camera, her hand still extended in a pushing motion. She stared at the fallen actress playing the second female lead, her expression shifting from shock to confusion.
"Emily! What are you doing?" The director stormed over, his face red with anger. "The script called for a gentle push. Why did you knock her over?"
"I..." Emily's lips parted.
She had followed the script exactly.
"Director, I'm fine," said Olivia, the second lead, dusting off her skirt as she stood. "Maybe Emily got too into character."
Olivia flashed Emily a smile.
That smile sent a chill down Emily's spine.
"Ten-minute break!" The director waved impatiently. "Emily, pull yourself together!"
Emily retreated to the rest area, where her assistant hurried over with a water bottle.
"Emily, you look pale."
She took the bottle, her fingers icy.
She hadn't used any real force.
Yet Olivia had fallen as if shoved violently.
"Emily."
A deep voice spoke behind her.
She turned to meet the intense gaze of Michael, the award-winning lead actor.
"Michael..."
"You've been set up," he murmured. "Olivia faked the fall."
Emily's pupils contracted.
"She leaned back on purpose to make it look like you pushed her," Michael said, his eyes flicking toward Olivia. "Be careful. She's not what she seems."
Emily tightened her grip on the water bottle.
She suddenly remembered Olivia's words on the first day of filming:
"Emily, did you know? In this story, you're actually the supporting character."
At the time, she'd thought it was a joke.
Now...
"Places, everyone!" the assistant director called.
Emily took a deep breath.
She wasn't the supporting role.
Never had been.
"I'm doing just fine here and have no intention of going back." Emily Johnson set her teacup down gently, the porcelain clinking softly against the wooden table. "You're welcome to stay a few days if you'd like."
She wasn't the original Emily—this so-called "family home" meant nothing to her. Those very relatives had played no small part in the original Emily's tragic fate.
Doing fine?
Margaret Johnson glanced around the humble farmhouse—the peeling adobe walls, the rough-hewn table. How could her daughter claim to be happy in a place like this?
"Emily..." Margaret hesitated. How many of those back home truly wanted her daughter to return? She wasn't even sure herself.
What could they offer if Emily did come back? Buy her a job? Would the family even agree? Her eldest daughter-in-law would be the first to object. Maybe they should have the eldest son's family move out instead...
But what about here? Would that country son-in-law let her go? And the two grandchildren—leave them in the countryside? Unless Emily remarried and took them along...
Margaret rubbed her temples. This required serious discussion with her husband.
"Emily, think carefully," Margaret lowered her voice. "If you stay in the countryside, there's no going back. When David and Tommy start school, how can rural education compare to the city?"
"Not returning now doesn't mean I can't take them to the city for school later," Emily replied calmly.
"Without city residency permits, how?" Unless they bribed officials—but if they had that kind of money, why live rurally at all?
Emily considered explaining they could buy property to establish residency, but saw no point. Soon they'd be living separate lives, rarely meeting. As for financial support, she'd provide what the original Emily owed—if those sisters-in-law dared ask.
Margaret massaged her temples. Her daughter seemed determined to stay put.
In the kitchen, Mary Stone cooked while straining to hear the conversation. City folk spoke so softly, unlike country people's loud voices.
Was the mother-in-law here to persuade Emily to return? Mary's heart skipped a beat. Michael treated his wife so well, and they had two children—surely not...
She shook her head, dismissing the thought. If they disapproved, why keep sending money and ration coupons? This must just be a visit.
Meanwhile, David and Tommy raced toward the brigade headquarters with their basket of tofu.
"Grandpa! Grandpa!" The children's bright voices interrupted the meeting.
John Stone Sr. looked up to see his grandsons in new cotton-padded jackets and shoes, David carrying a basket.
"What brings you two here?"
"Grandpa, Grandma's here!"
John blinked. Grandma? Emily's family?