My Three Darlings by Anonymous

Chapter 127

It only took Eliza five minutes to go through the script. The plot was simple but difficult. The most important thing was to show the resistance of a person being pressed on the bed, helpless and desperate.

They were all emotional scenes and hard to play. But if she could put on a good show, the effect would turn out well. Eliza took a deep breath. After reading the script a few times, she brought herself into the role.

had been turned on in the distance. Eliza had completely settled into her role. Several medical staff pressed her down on the bed. “Let’s give her some sedatives.” “Let me go!” “I’m not crazy! You are the lunatics. Let me go!” Eliza’s limbs were pressed, and she was roaring crazily. Her hair was messy, and her clothes were also unbuttoned, revealing her collarbone and shoulders. Her hair was disheveled and she looked exactly like a madwoman. The director in front of the camera was shocked. He could feel the tension behind Eliza’s acting, the explosive power, and the ability to make people feel her… She was born to be an actress!

Beau narrowed his eyes and looked at the woman who was struggling on the hospital bed in the distance. “So, Eliza’s medical record must be fake.” Noah slapped his forehead. “That’s right!” “If madam was really crazy back then, why did these people leave?” All the people who were related had left. They were trying to hide it but they exposed themselves in the end! Beau’s brows twitched slightly. “It was her father who sent her to the hospital, right?” “That’s right!” Noah nodded. “We are already investigating Luca’s whereabouts, but…” They could not find him.

director on the set brought Beau back to reality. The shooting site was in a mess. Eliza was surrounded by a group of people. Along with the concerned voices of the crowd, came the heart-wrenching

arm. “Don’t go over there!” “She might be too immersed in the role. She’s dangerous now!” Beau brushed off Mr. Long’s hand and said, “It’s all right.” After that, he walked slowly toward her. On the hospital bed, Eliza buried

gently turning his head. He used his other hand to gently caress Eliza’s head. “Where does it hurt?” Eliza paused. He continued, “Is it because you think of something that gives you a headache?” “Eliza.” “It’s my fault. I just thought that repeating what happened in the past might help you restore  your memory. I didn’t expect you to have such a bad time recovering it.” His voice was low and gentle, and like a