As soon as the exams at Bloomington School concluded, the film crew for Thomas' latest project swiftly moved into the school grounds. They began setting up the location for the shoot, bustling with activity. Behind the scenes, in the makeup area, several actors were having their makeup done. "Why did the director choose to shoot here?" a female actor complained. "There are so many schools in Duskmire. They could've picked any of them, but they chose to come all the way to Pyrin." Another actor agreed, "True. Pyrin's only two hours away from Duskmire, but that's still a distance to travel back and forth. It wastes both time and money. Doesn't seem like something Mr. Reid would normally do—he's usually pretty thrifty." A third actress, who had been sitting quietly in the middle, spoke up. "You guys just don't get it. This school is prestigious, an aristocratic institution with over a hundred years of history. It's the perfect setting for the script." The others around her nodded, the realization dawning on them. However, they were unaware that the idea had actually come from one person—Thomas himself. Meanwhile, Thomas sat in a private dressing room backstage, the makeup artist working on his face as he idly scrolled through his phone. He typed a quick message to Seraphina. 'Seraphina, guess where I am?' Elsewhere, Seraphina, along with the other students, was waiting in a classroom for her cue. She glanced at her phone and saw the message from Thomas. She stared at the screen for a long moment, unsure of how to respond. No matter how she looked at it, his message seemed so playful and childish, not at all like something a grown man would send. After thinking it over, she typed a simple, nonchalant reply, 'I don't know.'Seraphina thought that Thomas would be happy to see her reply. He must be thrilled that she pretended not to know where he was—it was the surprise he'd been hoping for. How considerate she was to play along. However, as soon as Thomas read the words 'I don't know,' a strange feeling settled over him. His expression darkened, and he became lost in thought. The playful mood shifted into something more somber, and the air around him seemed to grow heavy. Noticing the change, the makeup artist paused in his work and looked at him curiously. "Mr. Foster, are you alright?" the makeup artist asked. "Not alright at all," Thomas replied curtly, his mood suddenly sour. The makeup artist, taken aback, hesitated before responding, unsure how to handle the situation. Just as the silence stretched on, Thomas asked a question that caught him off guard. "If everyone around knows something, but one person doesn't, what do you think that means?" he asked. The makeup artist thought about it. "Well, that person either doesn't care about what's happening around them, or they don't find it important enough to pay attention to." As soon as the words left his mouth, Thomas fixed him with a piercing stare. His eyes seemed to demand an explanation, as if silently questioning, "Who do you think you're fooling?" The makeup artist froze, confused. Had he said something wrong? His mind raced, but he quickly decided it was best to stay silent. He was sure he hadn't been wrong, yet the atmosphere had changed, and he didn't dare argue. Back in the classroom, Seraphina had expected a quick reply from Thomas, but after waiting for a while, she found his silence odd. Still, she reasoned, he was a busy star, and it was perfectly normal for him to be caught up in other things. Maybe he was just too occupied to reply right away. At that moment, a staff member from the film crew entered the classroom and addressed the students. "We're about to begin shooting, everyone. Before we start, please hand in your phones. The crew will keep them safe and return them to you after the shoot." Immediately, groans of protest filled the room. No one was eager to hand over their phones, but all the students complied reluctantly. One by one, they dropped their phones into the collection box. Seraphina followed suit, tossing her phone in with the others. Meanwhile, Thomas finally decided to reply to her after debating internally. He quickly typed out a message. 'Hey Sera, I'm at your school. Do you want to come visit? I miss your pastries.' He hit send, his excitement palpable as he awaited her reply. Yet, as the minutes ticked by, his phone remained eerily silent. Why wasn't she replying? Frowning, he turned to Michael, who was sitting nearby. "Call me," he said. Michael looked up, puzzled. "Why?" he asked."My phone might be broken," Thomas said.