Why was Elizabeth suddenly thinking about Clara? The woman who aged decades in mere months under relentless pressure. Her hands, rough and calloused from endless labor. How she still managed to cook nourishing meals even when her pockets were empty.

Tears began escaping the corners of Elizabeth's eyes. Tracing paths down her pale cheeks.

She had believed she would carry her resentment toward Clara forever. That she would never soften toward her. Certainly never acknowledge their connection.

Yet within two weeks, concern for Clara already gnawed at her.

She didn't know how long she'd been crying. But the tears refused to stop flowing.

That afternoon, a text arrived from Linda.

Before receiving it, Elizabeth hadn't known if she would swallow her pride and ask for help. Or simply wait for death to claim her.

But the message came. And Elizabeth remained silent for a long time after reading it.

[Your entertainment career is completely blocked across all channels. Only one path remains open. You can take it if willing. I understand your survival depends on this after losing everything. You've always lived extravagantly. I've seen too many A-listers caught in scandals who eventually sold themselves completely. Just consider it. I'll send you the director's contact. You can even negotiate to keep your face hidden.]

Elizabeth stared at the number Linda provided.

She didn't think Linda intended to humiliate her by directing her toward adult films.

Linda simply understood the brutal reality of the industry. How desperate artists would do anything for money.

In her own way, Linda was trying to help Elizabeth with the only option remaining.

Elizabeth's hands trembled as she dialed the number.

Everyone in the industry knew about her disastrous situation. They'd negotiated her down to just fifty thousand for the film.

She agreed. With one condition—her face must be blurred throughout.

The director consented. Scheduling an audition for 8 PM.

She rose and went to clean herself at a public bathhouse. Already accustomed to her dilapidated surroundings.

The faucet water alternated between scalding and freezing. Hair and garbage littered the floors. She could only afford the cheapest hygiene products.

When she emerged, Clara watched her drying her hair.

"Going out?" Clara asked.

Elizabeth nodded. Clara again pressed the hundred-dollar bill into her hand.

"Take this."

Elizabeth stared at the money for a long moment before accepting it. She had nothing left. Not even taxi fare.

As she took the money, Clara told her, "Don't come back."

Elizabeth ignored her. But she could imagine the beating Clara would endure if she returned.

She was descending the dimly lit stairs when Samantha's call came through. She hesitated before finally answering.

That's when she remembered her promise to Elise. That she would stay with her until the trial concluded. Now she was breaking that promise.

Elizabeth's eyes welled with fresh tears at Samantha's words. She knew both Samantha and Elise would accept her unconditionally.

Still, she couldn't bear to burden them.