Chapter 29

Even though five years had passed, my appearance still looked as young as before, and that was one of the advantages of being a werewolf.

We weren’t immortal, but our aging process was three times slower than humans. That was why werewolf celebrities tended to have longer careers compared to ordinary humans.

Unfortunately, I no longer had the same spark I used to carry. My appearance hadn’t changed, but the way I saw the world had shifted drastically.

The wounds in my heart still hadn’t healed, and they made it difficult to keep my spirits up. Still, I refused to drown in that pain anymore. I had to try.

"I need to go first, Mrs. Cole," Gina said, patting my shoulder lightly before walking away. "I can’t wait to see your best performance."

Right.

I reminded myself of that as I watched her leave. I had come here for a reason—to give my best, to rebuild my career from the ground up.

Today, I only needed to focus on myself. I needed to stand on equal ground with Zephyr someday.

I made my way to the 12th floor, where the audition was being held. After registering my name, I sat in the waiting room alongside the other candidates.

I deliberately wore a mask to avoid being recognized.

But the truth was… I just didn’t want to talk to anyone before the audition.

One by one, the coordinator called out names.

Some candidates stayed inside for quite a while, while others came out in less than two minutes. Just from that alone, it was easy to tell how things went for them.

After nearly two hours of waiting, I finally heard it.

"Samantha Cole."

"Samantha what?!" The entire room erupted instantly.

Heads turned toward me, eyes wide with disbelief. Whispers spread like wildfire.

"Is that Samantha Cole?" someone muttered.

"It can’t be! Why would she audition like the rest of us?" another voice said.

"Isn’t her husband’s business in trouble now?"

I let out a quiet sigh, silently cursing anyone who dared to bring up Rowan’s name again.

Taking a steady breath, I walked into the casting room, ignoring every single word about my scumbag ex-husband.

Inside, five people sat waiting—the producer, the director, the vice director, the writer, and the CEO.

I gave Zephyr a faint smile before shifting my attention to the writer.

The movie Shattered Bond was based on a best-selling novel written by Celeste Duvall.

The story had touched countless readers with its raw portrayal of Elara Strixx—a woman escaping an abusive relationship while trying to rebuild her life with her daughter, Olivia.

I had read the novel over and over again while preparing for this audition.

I could feel Elara’s pain as if it were my own.

That was what scared me the most.

The story was powerful. And I didn’t want to be the one who ruined it.

"Good afternoon, Samantha," the director, Matthew White, greeted me.

From the look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t expected to see me here.

"Samantha Cole," he continued, "I wasn’t expecting you today. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you on screen."

I smiled politely. "Yes, it has. But I’m ready to make a comeback."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, intrigued. "And you chose this role for your return? Interesting."

"Let’s see what you’ve got." He flipped to the page of the scene I had chosen. "The stage is yours."

I took a deep breath, replaying the scene in my mind again and again.

I knew Zephyr had expected me to choose the abuse scene. It would have been easier—too easy—for me to act something I had lived through.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I chose the monologue—the one where Elara broke down after a long, exhausting day at the laundromat.

Slowly, I lowered myself to the floor, imagining a quiet, dim apartment.

I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head against them.

In an instant, the light in my eyes faded.

Everything became empty—like an endless ocean under a dark sky.

I hadn’t even spoken yet, but I could already feel the room holding its breath.

Then, I exhaled.

"Can anyone hear me?" I began softly. "God? Ghost? Whatever… just… please, hear me."

My voice cracked under the weight of exhaustion and desperation.

A small, broken laugh escaped my lips. I sounded like a madwoman talking to herself.

But in that moment, I had no one else.

"I met a horrible customer today," I continued, my voice trembling. "She accused me of stealing her gold necklace… said it was in the pocket of her clothes."

"I didn’t do it… but she kept yelling. And no one believed me." My voice dropped to a whisper. "They said a poor single mom like me must love to steal."

A hollow laugh left my lips.

"What a joke… I didn’t even see her necklace."

I buried my face into my knees, my shoulders shaking.

"But no one… no one wanted to believe me. Even the owner fired me without listening to me."

Slowly, I lifted my head, staring at the ceiling.

"Did I make the wrong choice?" I asked quietly. "Leaving him? I thought I was doing the right thing… for her… for us. But now…"

Something inside me snapped.

"Did I make the wrong choice?!" I shouted, my voice breaking as anger surged through me. "Leaving him? Was it a mistake?!"

My breathing turned uneven as my emotions spilled over.

"I thought I was saving us!"

My hands clenched into fists.

"But look at me now… beaten down, accused, fired… struggling just to survive!"

I dragged my fingers through my hair, my voice rising.

"Fuck! Answer me!"

For a moment, everything went silent.

The director had been so absorbed that he nearly forgot his cue.

Then, softly—

"Mama."

The moment I heard it, everything changed.

In a single breath, I let go of all the anger, all the pain.

I turned my head toward the imaginary door, my expression softening.

In my mind, I saw a little girl standing there, holding a broken doll close to her chest.

"Oh, sweetheart…" I whispered, my lips curving into a gentle smile. "Did you break your doll again? Come here… I’ll fix it for you."

"Cut!"

The director shot up from his seat, clapping loudly. The rest of the room quickly followed.

"That was phenomenal!"

I slowly came back to myself, my chest rising and falling as the emotions faded.

Celeste, the writer, looked at me with clear admiration.

"I’ve seen many performances of Elara today," she said softly. "But this is the first time I’ve seen someone truly bring her to life."