The car hummed softly as it glided down the winding road. The night outside was still, the stars blinking faintly above, a stark contrast to the quiet tension that had settled in Anna's chest. She leaned back against the soft leather seat, her eyes lost in the dark blur of trees passing by the window. Mo Xing, ever composed, had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting comfortably on the center console. The silence between them was comfortable, but Anna's mind was still replaying the events of earlier.
She couldn't shake the image of the woman sitting in the shadows, her sobs so heavy and raw. It wasn't the first time Anna had encountered someone hurting in the entertainment industry, but something about this felt different. The pain in Ling Buyi's voice had been so deep, so gut-wrenching. Anna wasn't sure if it was because she had been a star herself, or because she had experienced her own struggles, but the emotions had stirred something powerful inside her.
