The film festival was a schizophrenic beast—a glittering beast of gowns, champagne, and flashbulbs stretched taut over a writhing underbelly of industry calculation and raw, naked ambition. For Lena, walking the red carpet was the most harrowing battle she had ever faced. Every flash was a potential muzzle flare, every cheering fan in the crowd a potential threat. 

She held Daniel’s arm, her smile a practiced, flawless mask, while her eyes, hidden behind designer ...