The week before the trial was spent in constant practice.
The girls had already nailed down the physicality of their roles, but that wasn't enough. They didn't need to talk, but if they could understand how to speak like the identities, then they would move more naturally in character.
"Again," I instructed, leaning against the couch with my arms crossed.
Sienna stood in the center of the room, wearing Mr. Fox's firefighter gear—minus the mask. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.
"Justice waits for no one," she declared, her voice filled with the kind of bold heroism you'd expect from a protagonist in a cheesy action film.
I sighed. "Still too theatrical."
She frowned. "But Mr. Fox is a hero!"
I shook my head. "Sure....but Fox isn't a cartoon hero. He doesn't make grand speeches, he acts. His presence alone should say everything. Act more natural."
Sienna groaned, muttering under her breath before trying again—this time, with more restrained confidence.
