No Second Chance With My Past

right stage lights. I was Ethan Miller, back at my old California film school, a place I

ilm screening. A hand shot up in the

ella. No, not mine, not

cut through the polite app

t catching her, just

ued, her voice smooth, "abou

o the gut. My thesis script, the one they said

r's studio, which had loved my script, suddenly pulled back. Then Isabella, on a stage much like this one, at a student show

now, a charming smile on her face, "To finally

ow. Or maybe some remembered the old scandal,

ettle over me. This

y voice even, "it's c

r something else, maybe a flicker

he ashes were scattered y

rama, tried to move on,

onate project for us

ain, my exile. She had stood by

r, her father nodding in agreement. Julian, who wanted me gone, out o

en. She chose him. She chose

idea, that I had stolen it from him and Bella, was a l

ariness. Some ghosts, it s