There was a pause, as she looked at him - the face, the look in his eyes, the fact that he lied about so much couldn't escape her. She bit her lip once more, before slowly shaking her head. It was the barest of lies - she didn't think he'd hurt her, he let her go after all. That couldn't have been a lie - there was no way to lie about that. Her lie was simply for her fear for everyone else – and for how he’d react next.
Lotte turned away as the others approached. There was a relief in not being the only ones on the stage - she'd always felt better when in a crowd. She offered a shaky smile to the other woman and tried not to frown at Ella. "Can you stop the vines?" she asked, carefully. She remained with Bran on the other side and she didn't like how there was even more of a wall between them. Lotte turned back to the other woman asking, "Do you mind telling your name? You might have, er, guessed that that's Ella and I'm Lotte-" She glanced back at Bran, waiting to see if he would introduce himself as Bran or Trevor or someone else. She didn't know anymore.
She moved a bit closer to the plaque when Ella said they had to do a play. She hadn't gotten that the first time, but reading it over filled her with horror. There'd been a production of Romeo and Juliet when she was in high school and she'd read it in class - and of course, she knew Gounod. For half a second she wished it was singing instead, before she protested. "Why us?" She looked at Bran and then to Ella. "We're not Romeo and Juliet. We're not. It's nothing like that, no matter what Webber says."