"The light hit me like a punch," Grace said, wheezing as someone grabbed her shoulders and hauled her upright. "Sit still," Lillian sniffed, voice high and theatrical. "You don't get a show." "Save the drama for the well," Grace snapped, blinking against the afterimage. Kai's grip tightened, more reflex than malice. "She'll be fine. Just rest." "Rest?" Lillian's hand fluttered to her chest. "You almost drowned. You scared everyone. Do you know what you put your grandmother through?" "Do you know what you put me through?" Grace asked, and the room fell quieter than the rain on the tin roof outside. "Girl, don't play with words," Lillian said, now smiling like a victor. "You were reckless. People risked themselves for you." "People?" Grace looked at Kai. "You were the one who left your oar drifting and pretended not to notice." Kai swallowed. "I—" "No, don't." Grace let the word hang like a scale. "Lillian cried loud enough to drown the river, but you two came for the story. You wanted pity. You wanted the village to remember you as brave." "That's slander," Lillian hissed. "You owe us gratitude." "Audiences don't get gratitude from actors." Grace pushed the thin blanket off her knees and sat up properly. Her body felt wrong and raw, but her voice was steady. "Leave. Both of you. Now." Lillian's jaw clenched. "What? You—" "Now," Grace repeated, calm like a blade. "Go tell your friends you played hero