Chapter 4 — Rehearsal Sparks

Harper

The first thing you should know is this: my apartment is not made for dramatic reenactments. It’s barely made for me. The living room is more of a living nook, and the coffee table—bless its rickety heart—has a wobbly leg that once betrayed me during an epic game of charades. So when Noah strides through the door, script in hand and his usual easy confidence radiating like some kind of golden retriever with a SAG card, I immediately regret agreeing to this.