Maya kept her head down and focused, throwing herself into the logistics—adjusting the product placements, double-checking storyboards, quietly liaising with the camera crew when needed.
Before she knew it, the sun had climbed high overhead. The light had shifted into the golden haze of early afternoon, and Trina called for a break. Lunch was being laid out on the shaded tables nearby.
Still no sign of Damien.
Maya’s eyes flicked toward the resort, scanning the balconies. Nothing. No shadow. No figure. No Damien.
“Hey, Maya—do you have a sec?”
Ethan’s voice came from behind her. She turned, expression neutral.
“Yes?” she asked, keeping her tone even and her gaze focused just over his shoulder.
“I just wanted to ask—uh, about the sequence after lunch. The drone angle—is that still a
