She couldn’t pull back in time. Her arm was already swinging down, so all she could do was twist her wrist and hope for the best.
The heavy candlestick slammed right into Kenneth’s shoulder.
There was a solid thud, followed by a muffled groan that made Emily’s heart leap into her throat.
“Kenneth!”
Emily’s face went paper white. The prop slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She rushed over just in time to catch him as he staggered. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you move?”
“I got nervous, I guess. Forgot to move out of the way.”
Kenneth didn’t resist—he just let himself lean into her. His chin rested on her shoulder, and his voice dropped to a gentle whisper. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“Kenneth, are you alright?”
The director and a bunch of crew hurried over, looking panicked. “Call the doctor!” he barked.
There were a lot of fight scenes in this production, so they actually had a doctor on standby for situations like this.
“Can you walk?” Emily asked, concern etched all over her face. She’d swung pretty hard for the sake of realism, and she’d hit him right on the shoulder. With injuries there, you never knew if it was something small or really serious.
“Not so much,” Kenneth said, giving her a crooked, forced smile, trying to play up how weak he felt.
“Emily, let me help you.”
Jarrod stepped up fast, reaching to support Kenneth’s other side.
“Okay, tha—”
But Kenneth cut her off, his voice low and a little grumpy. “I’m injured. Someone shouldn’t move me unless they know what they’re doing. You could make it worse.”
“Jarrod, hang on. Don’t help him just yet,” Emily said quietly, her worry making her miss the little smirk Kenneth tried to hide. “Be careful. I’ll help you.”
Kenneth hummed in agreement.

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