Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

"What's up? Spit it out."

"Well, it goes like this." Sherilyn shared her dilemma about joining the dance company. "I'm kinda stretched thin right now, and I'm afraid the upcoming shows... might be a bit challenging."

Blake, upon hearing this, was visibly displeased.

"Sherilyn, when you joined the team, I talked you up big time to the director."

"Yes, I know." Sherilyn was clearly embarrassed. "I really appreciate it."

The last thing she wanted was to seem ungrateful.

But being part of the Lightning Dance Troupe came with strict rules—dancers on the list, especially lead dancers like her, were not allowed to take on side gigs.

After all, being a lead dancer was like being the face of the company.

Just like in showbiz, it was a coveted position.

Originally, Sherilyn had thought about quitting the show.

But first off, she was under contract, and walking away could mean a hefty fine.

Second, Blake had indeed been good to her. It didn't sit right with her to just ditch him for a better opportunity.

So, after much deliberation, she could only suggest reducing her parts.

"Blake, it's my fault."

Seeing how troubled she was, Blake softened. "Alright, I'll see what I can do. But you have to be in those key scenes. No discussion. That's the deal. You've taken Mr. Marshall's money, and he's very particular about his productions. We all need to cover our backs in this industry, right? Who knows what the future holds? Maybe there'll be another chance to work together. Let's not burn our bridges."

"Yes." Sherilyn was immensely grateful, nodding repeatedly.

"I'll do as you suggest."

That Blake didn't blame her and was so understanding made Sherilyn feel incredibly fortunate.

Luck wasn't always against her, it seemed.

"Thank you, Blake."

"Don’t mention it." Blake waved her off. "Get ready now."

"Sure thing."

That night, Sherilyn didn't leave the set until nearly midnight.

Arriving back at Serenity Street, she felt like falling apart. The moment she hit the bed, she was out like a light.

The next morning at the dance company.

After changing into her rehearsal outfit, she was about to head to the studio.

"Sherilyn!"

At the door, a colleague called out, "Ms. Hansen wants to see you in her office."

"Alright! Thanks!" Sherilyn responded, locking her locker quickly and rushing over.

She knocked and entered, then asked, "Ms. Hansen, what can I do for you?"

Daphne was seated on the couch, her face expressionless.

A bad feeling welled up in Sherilyn. Although Daphne was usually stern, now, she could sense anger in her gaze.

"Ms. Hansen." Sherilyn subconsciously pursed her lips. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Hmm." Daphne raised an eyebrow, a cold laugh escaping her.

She placed her phone on the coffee table. "Take a look. Tell me, is this person you?"

"Oh, okay." Sherilyn bent down to pick up the phone.

It displayed a photo of her in last night's makeup on set! Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

"What..." Sherilyn looked up sharply, panic in her eyes. "Ms. Hansen, I..."

"Is it you?" Daphne's gaze was sharp, unyielding.

"I..." Sherilyn's eyelashes quivered, her limbs cold. She couldn't deny it; the person in the photo was indeed her.

Biting her lip, she nodded in admission. "Yes, it's me."

Daphne laughed, her voice filled with scorn. "Sherilyn, you've got some nerve!"