---- mushroom soup. Yet it was that very soup that nearly cost me my life. Back then, for every second I fought for my life in the emergency room, Henry had knelt outside the door, vowing that he would never let me near mushrooms again. But even the most searing memories were no match for time. Those same memories faded, leaving not even a scar behind. Perhaps my unnerving silence made Henry uneasy. He paced behind me for a while before finally, awkwardly, trying to back down. "I lost my temper and embarrassed you in public, "he admitted. "But I'm still the head of the studio. I have to be fair and want to earn people's respect. ---- "Tt's not that I'm forbidding you from helping with the studio. If you'd just quietly apologize to Tamara-" "Excuse me,"' I said, cutting him off without a glance. I brushed past him into the bathroom to pack my cosmetics. His words hung in the air, stuck in his throat, as a strange, helpless frustration surged through him.