Chapter 4

Lena woke up to a throbbing headache and the smell of antiseptic.

A nurse was checking her vitals. "Easy now. You took a nasty knock to the head. Stitches, and you'll have quite the bruise."

She was in a hospital. The memory of the bottle, Chloe's laughter, came rushing back.

She felt a tear escape, tracing a path through the grime on her cheek.

Her phone. Where was her phone?

The nurse handed it to her. Missed calls. None from Blake. Of course not.

Then, a new message. Unknown number.

"Ms. Holloway? This is Marcus Thorne, attorney at law. I represent the estate of Mr. Arthur Holloway. It's urgent I speak with you regarding his passing and his final wishes."

Arthur Holloway? The name was vaguely familiar. A legend in Nashville. Founder of Holloway Records. Reclusive.

Her mother. Her mother had been estranged from her father. Could it be?

Lena's head spun, and not just from the concussion.

She called the number.

Marcus Thorne's voice was calm, professional. "Ms. Holloway, I'm so sorry to reach out under these circumstances. Your grandfather, Arthur Holloway, passed away two days ago."

Grandfather?

"He has named you as the sole beneficiary of his entire estate."

The room tilted. Entire estate? Arthur Holloway was a music mogul. His fortune was legendary.

"This must be a shock," Marcus continued. "He also left a personal journal for you. He wanted you to have it."

Lena didn't know what to say. A grandfather she never knew. A fortune.

It felt unreal, like a dream. A bizarre, disorienting dream after a nightmare.

Marcus arranged to meet her. He was young, sharp, with kind eyes that held no judgment. He explained everything. The vastness of the inheritance. The historic record label. The publishing house.

"Your grandfather regretted the estrangement from your mother deeply," Marcus said gently. "He followed your career, Lena. He knew about your talent."

He knew.

Marcus saw her stitched head, the bruises. He didn't press, but his expression was grim.

"Nashville might not be the best place for you right now, Lena," he suggested. "The estate has holdings in New York. A place to think, to heal. To decide what you want to do."

Escape. The word resonated.

Before leaving her old, cramped apartment for the last time, she saw Blake's spare phone on her nightstand. He'd left it there weeks ago, carelessly. Said the battery died and he'd pick it up later.

He was always careless with things he didn't value.

She remembered the video. The one they planned to play at Chloe's party. Her birthday.

Her fingers trembled as she turned it on. It was still logged into his cloud account.

She found the file easily. "Lena's Meltdown.mp4."

Her heart pounded. She saw herself, tear-streaked, handing Blake the money from the guitar sale. It was edited, of course, to make her look unhinged.

With a steady hand, she selected the file. And deleted it.

From his cloud. From his life.

She took a deep breath.

New York. A new life. Away from Blake, Chloe, and the ghosts of Nashville.

Marcus was waiting.