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CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED AND NINETY NINE – THE AFTER PARTY

In one corner, the cinematographer and the art director were hunched over a laptop, excitedly reviewing some of the footage they had shot. Even in the small screen preview, Jasmine could see the raw beauty of the Siberian landscape they had captured. It sent a thrill through her - they really had created something special. As she made her way through the crowd, Jasmine was stopped every few steps by crew members wanting to share a word, a hug, or a toast. The camaraderie was palpable, a far cry from the tension and near-mutiny they had faced just weeks ago. "Speech! Speech!" The chant started somewhere in the back of the tent and quickly spread. Soon, the entire crew was calling for Jasmine to speak. With a mix of embarrassment and pride, Jasmine climbed onto a chair, raising her hands for quiet. As the noise died down, she looked out at the sea of faces, all turned towards her expectantly. "When we started this journey," she began, her voice carrying across the now-silent tent, "I

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