He hesitated. The industry had taught him to avoid risks. But this... this was a dare.

“And interpretations require time ,” Vince countered, gesturing to the duffel. “What’s in there?”

“Let’s try something,” he said. In the next two hours, Vince and Emmanuella worked through a series of improvised scenes. She transformed: one moment she was a child begging for a second chance, the next, a shadowy figure whispering threats in French. She asked him to play the part of her brother—a man she’d invented, whose death had driven her to madness. And when Vince refused, she screamed at the walls, “HE’S NOT REAL!”

He called the director.