The shoot is going smoothly. Everyone is focused, moving around with purpose. Daisy, as always, is radiant—confident, beautiful, and effortlessly perfect in front of the camera.
Ben stands to the side of the monitor, observing the shoot so he can plan the next design layout. Mia remains quietly at the back, waiting for any orders he might throw her way.
A staff member walks by, struggling with a stack of props. In a split second, one of them slips from his hands and crashes straight into Mia's knee.
CLATTER!
The loud sound cuts through the air, making everyone turn.
"Ahh!" Mia cries out as sharp pain shoots through her leg. Her body buckles, and she falls backward, clutching her knee.
"Oh my—are you okay, Miss?" the staff stammers, kneeling beside her.
Mia can't answer. The pain is too sudden, too sharp. She grips her knee with both hands, her face twisted as she tries to breathe through it.
"MIA! Are you okay?" Kevin's voice cuts through the murmur of the crowd. He rushes toward her, eyes wide with panic.
Still unable to speak, Mia just shakes her head slightly, wincing.
Without hesitation, Kevin scoops her up in his arms.
"I'm taking you to the infirmary," he says, already moving.
The sound of clicking cameras and whispered murmurs fades behind them as he strides away. Mia's knee throbs with each step he takes, and she buries her face in his shoulder—not because she wants to, but because she doesn't want anyone to see the tears brimming in her eyes.
She can still feel the weight of everyone's stares. Of Ben's silence. Of Daisy's unreadable gaze.
They push through the doors of the resort's infirmary. The cold air hits Mia's skin, and she shivers slightly—not sure if it's from the chill or from the storm of emotions she hasn't had time to name.
Wen they arrive the doctor checks Mia's knee right away.
"Thankfully, it's nothing serious," she says, offering a small smile. "It'll just leave a bruise for a few days."
"Then why was she in so much pain?" Kevin asks, concern etched in his voice.
"It was sudden and unexpected, so it probably felt worse than it actually is," the doctor explains. She grabs an ice pack and hands it to Kevin. "Here—put this on her knee so it doesn't swell." With that, she leaves the room.
Mia is sitting on the edge of the patient bed, her legs dangling slightly, hands resting on either side of her. Kevin pulls up a chair beside her and gently places the ice pack over her knee.
"I can do it," Mia says softly, glancing at him.
"I know," he replies. "But let me do it."
Silence settles between them. The only sound is the soft hum of the aircon, the ticking wall clock, the sound of their own heart beats pounding against their ribs.
The weight of everything left unsaid presses against Mia's chest, making it hard to breathe. Every word she hasn't spoken feels like it's hanging in the air, waiting for the right moment to be released.
Then, breaking the silence, Kevin's voice cuts through the stillness—low, steady, but filled with an underlying intensity.
"Don't you think we need to talk?"
He doesn't look at her. His eyes are focused on the ice pack in his hand. But Mia can feel the tension in his words.
Mia doesn't answer right away. She's not sure how to. She's not sure what she wants to say. What can she say after everything that's happened?
Finally, Kevin lifts his gaze, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since they sat down. His stare is piercing, a mix of hurt and frustration in his eyes.
"Why did you disappear six years ago?" His voice cracks just a little, like the weight of the question is more than he's been able to carry for all this time. "I looked for you. Everywhere."
The words land heavy in the space between them. The hurt in his voice is real, raw, and Mia feels it like a punch to her gut. She wants to say something, to explain herself, but the silence presses down harder than ever.
They're still staring at each other, locked in this space, this fragile moment where everything hangs in the balance.
Then Kevin says it, his voice soft but filled with an unmistakable weight, like he's finally admitting something he's been holding back for years.
"I thought we had something special."
His words hit her like a wave, knocking her breathless. She thought so, too. At least, she used to. But the memory of that day at the beach—the way everything had fallen apart—echoes in her mind.
"I thought so too… but that's not what I saw that day at the beach."
His brow furrows slightly, confusion washing over his face. He doesn't understand, and that hurts more than she expected. His eyes search hers, looking for an answer he doesn't know how to find.
"The day of the shoot… that wasn't the first time I saw Daisy," Mia continues, her voice barely a whisper.
"Daisy?" Kevin repeats, his voice laced with confusion, the name hanging between them like a question mark he doesn't know how to answer.
The sudden interruption breaks the fragile thread between them. Kevin looks away first, his gaze flickering to the door before it returns to Mia, his expression still clouded with confusion. But the moment has already shifted. The words, the truth, the years of silence—they're still hanging in the air, unfinished.
Mia doesn't look at him again. She can't. Not now. Not yet.
Jella steps in, looking a little out of breath. They both glance at her as she speaks.
"Mr. Diaz, Daisy is looking for you."
Then she turns to Mia with a soft smile. "I'll take care of Mia."
Mia nods quickly, avoiding Kevin's eyes this time.
"Go. I think it's urgent. I'm okay now—Jella's here."
Kevin lingers for a second. Mia can feel his gaze on her, waiting.
When she still doesn't look back, he finally speaks.
"We're still not finished talking."
And with that, he leaves the room.