Betty’s POV
The studio felt heavier than usual, the quiet hum of conversation replaced by uneasy silence. Dana’s latest email glared at me from my laptop screen, each word a reminder of how little control I had over this story.
"The draft looks good, but it needs more focus on the conflict. Audiences connect with drama—lean into the tension between you and Stacey, and highlight your leadership challenges. Make it personal."
I stared at the words until they blurred. Carlos and Lucy had gone to grab coffee, leaving me alone with the empty studio and my spiraling thoughts.
I could practically hear Dana’s voice as I reread the email. She didn’t care about The Unseen’s hard work, the hours spent perfecting every detail of our designs. She wanted a story that sold, even if it meant turning us into a spectacle.
My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. Brent’s name flashed on the screen, and I hesitated before answering.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound more upbeat than I felt.
“Hey,” he replied, his voice warm and steady. “You sound tired.”
I let out a soft laugh. “Understatement of the year.”
“Want to talk about it?”
For a moment, I considered spilling everything—the pressure, the frustration, the overwhelming fear that I wasn’t enough. But the words caught in my throat. I didn’t want to burden him, not when he was already holding down the farm and his family.
“It’s nothing,” I said lightly. “Just work stuff.”
He didn’t press, but I could hear the concern in his silence.
“You’ve got this,” he said finally, his voice soft but certain. “I know you do.”
“Thanks, Brent,” I whispered, wishing he were here to say it in person.
I closed my laptop and leaned back in my chair, letting his words echo in my mind. Maybe I did have this, even if it didn’t feel like it right now. For now, I’d focus on what I could control and let the rest come later.