Harper jogged the last few steps and reached her, gently grabbing her wrist.
“Hey… hey, look at me.”
Maya drew in a ragged breath and finally turned. Her eyes were glossy and red, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry…”
Harper’s expression softened further. “Stop apologizing.”
“But I—” Maya’s voice broke as she gestured back toward the dining hall. “Ethan’s gone and the shoot is ruined and everyone worked so hard and—”
“And none of that is your fault.” Harper cut her off gently but firmly. “He caused it. He crossed the line. You reacted like any sane person would. Honestly, I would’ve punched him long before Damien did.”
A tiny, breathless laugh escaped Maya—half disbelief, half relief. She swiped at her eyes again.
“You didn’t ruin anything, Maya. You stood up for yourself.
