"For protection against evil spirits," Elara repeated, a faint sneer appearing on her lips.

Ziva nodded quickly and walked forward, stretching out her hand. "Yeah," she said, trying to sound normal. "If you don’t want it in the wardrobe, just give it to me and I’ll keep it somewhere else."

Elara ignored her completely. She turned the bottle in her hand, then began to open it slowly. "I wonder what it would taste like."

Ziva froze.

"...Taste?" she repeated, her eyes widening. "Elara, that is not an orange juice. You don’t just wake up and decide to drink ghost repellant. What if the spirits come back for a refund?"

Elara didn’t stop. If anything, her movements became more deliberate, as if she would really drink it.

Ziva stared at her like she had just announced she was about to lick a candle flame. "Why are you like this?" she muttered under her breath, then quickly stepped forward. "Give me that—"

Elara lifted the bottle well out of her reach, taking advantage of her height to keep it high above Ziva’s head. She didn’t even have to stand on her toes. "I’m just wondering," she said calmly.

"Wondering about what? Your last will?" Ziva snapped, lunging forward again.

Their hands met around the bottle for a little second, one pulling, the other resisting.

Then...

Slip.

The bottle dropped. It hit the floor with a small crack, the liquid spilling out and spreading everywhere.

Both of them froze and stared at the mess in silence. Then slowly... they looked up at each other. And just as slowly, they both looked down again.

The liquid didn’t stay clear anymore.

Right before their eyes, the color shifted... though faintly at first, then it settled into a pale purple.

Elara’s brow lifted slowly as she watched it. Then a soft scoff escaped her lips.

Ziva opened her mouth. "Elara, I can expl—"

"I understand," Elara said flatly, cutting her off as she finally looked up at her.

"Well, tell me what you want to explain," she continued calmly, her eyes still fixed on Ziva. "Is it when you found the time to get all these things... or when you carried out the mission?"

Ziva stayed quiet for a long moment. Then she folded her arms and let out a slow breath. There was no guilt on her face at all. "She deserved it," she muttered under her breath. "Talking like she’s the only singer allowed to breathe on set."

A small scoff slipped from Elara again as she watched her. "But she wasn’t targeting you," she said with a questioning tone. "She was targeting me. Don’t think—"

"Same thing," Ziva cut in firmly lifting her eyes to meet Elara’s gaze. Then... her expression flickered. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but stopped. Her eyes dropping to the floor.

"Never mind," she muttered. "I just don’t like how she talks. She’s too arrogant."

Elara went quiet. Something warm flickered in her chest, but just as quickly, her face turned serious again. "What if you had been caught?" she asked.

Ziva shrugged without hesitation. "Then I would have denied it."

Elara let out a sigh. "Ziva."

Ziva lifted her head a little. "What?"

"Imagine it. If they had caught you red handed, how exactly would you deny it? Trying to say something would only have made everything worse."

Ziva waved a hand, completely unbothered. "Well, I wasn’t caught. So there’s no need for imagination."

She had barely finished speaking when a knock suddenly came from the door.

"Miss Korr? Are you in there?"

Both of them went still at once, turning to look at each other.

Elara’s brows drew together slightly, then she opened her mouth. "There’s no problem, right?" she asked.

"The director wants to see her," the voice outside replied.

Ziva froze for a split second. Then she took a deep breath and sighed, patting Elara gently on the shoulder. "Well," she said, straightening up, "time to go and harvest what I planted."

She paused, then added with a small grin, "I just hope it’s not coconuts. I don’t like coconuts. Too hard and stressful."

Elara wanted to say something, but Ziva was already walking toward the door. "Pray for me," she added over her shoulder before stepping out.

–

A few minutes later, Ziva stood in front of the director, her mind already preparing for disaster. She had expected anger. Maybe a lecture. Or possibly, public execution.

But instead, the director simply looked up from her notes. "Ziva," she said calmly, "Please, I need you to help me with the updated schedule for tomorrow’s shoot. The person in charge has proven to be completely unreliable and I’ve noticed you have a much better handle on the details."

Ziva blinked.

"...That’s it?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Is there something else?" The director asked, giving a small frown.

Ziva straightened immediately. "No, nothing. I’ll get it right away." she said, trying as much as possible to contain her excitement.

The director then nodded and returned to her work as if nothing had happened.

Ziva stood there for a second longer, then slowly turned and walked out. When she got back to the room, she pushed the door open and leaned against it dramatically.

"I have returned," she announced proudly. "Alive. Unpunished. And still.. mischievous."

She paused, then looked at Elara who was already taking a nap on the bed. "...I was mentally prepared to suffer for my crimes," she added seriously. "But apparently, the universe is on my side."

–

Finally, the filming came to an end. To mark this, the director threw a night party for the cast and crew.

The event was held in a grand ballroom of a luxury hotel. Everyone was dressed in their official filming costumes for one last time, making the room look like a scene from a movie.

When Elara and Ziva arrived, they made their way to the cast tables and sat down among the others.

After Elara had settled into her seat, her eyes moved across the hall without much thought. Then they stopped.

At the far end of the room, away from the crowd, a man sat with the same composed presence that never seemed to belong anywhere and yet fit everywhere.

Adrian.

She wasn’t surprised to see him there. If anything, she had even expected it.

Sitting with him was Harris, and right by his side was... Relanie.

Elara’s lips pressed together in a thin line as her eyes met his. Then, just as quickly, she looked away with a calm face.

Not long after, Carris arrived with a lady Elara recognized as his assistant. Seeing that the seats next to Elara were empty, they both sat down. Carris flashed a warm smile and waved at her.

"Hi," he said brightly while Elara flashed a warm smile back.

She had to admit, Carris Riole was a very easy person to be around. Despite his status, there was nothing distant about him. He spoke normally, laughed easily, and never carried himself like someone above others. He had been a good friend throughout the filming.

Sometimes, he could be a little too close and a little too involved in conversations, but it never felt uncomfortable. Usually, when men acted that way, she could sense they wanted something romantic, but with him, it was different. His actions felt naturally caring and safe.

Not long after Carris came, the journalists who had been moving around the tables walked toward them and began asking questions. Most of them were about the filming and how Elara felt taking on a lead role for the first time acting in a movie.

Elara answered calmly, not bothering to read into any hidden meaning behind their words. And thankfully, after asking Carris a few more questions, they moved on.

Soon, when it was time for the final performance. The director gave a small signal from where she stood.

Elara nodded in understanding and stood up, walking forward to the stage. Relanie had already risen and was a few steps ahead of her.

When they both reached the stage, Relanie turned a little and flashed her a warm smile. Then she turned her head back to the audience. "Good evening, everyone," she said smoothly, her voice carrying through the hall.

Everyone’s attention turned to the stage instantly.

"Shall we?" she said quietly, turning back to Elara again.

Elara gave a small nod in reply and they quickly moved into position. She picked up the guitar that had already been set in place, while Relanie lifted the violin.

The music began and they both stepped forward.

Relanie started singing first, and not long after, Elara joined in. The performance flowed perfectly, as if they had practiced together for years.

When it was time to move into the next part, they set their instruments aside. Elara reached out and their hands met. They stepped into the choreography, moving in rhythm as they turned and spun together.

But then...

As Elara spun, something at her sides suddenly loosened...