Chapter 8: My Mother’s Final Warning
The letter shook in my hands.
I had read hundreds of documents in my life.
Contracts.
Business plans.
Legal agreements.
Nothing had ever felt as important as a single page written by my mother.
I sat on the piano bench.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody dared interrupt.
I read.
*My sweet Maya,*
*If you found this, then you are old enough to know what happened. I wish I could have protected you forever, but I know you. You were never meant to hide from the world.*
My eyes blurred.
I wiped them quickly and continued.
*The music industry is full of beautiful people and dangerous people. Do not let the darkness make you afraid of the light.*
I stopped.
My mother always wrote like that.
Even when she was afraid, she tried to teach courage.
The next lines made my stomach twist.
*There is someone close to us who has been stealing from artists. I discovered the truth, but exposing it came with consequences.*
I looked up.
Everyone was watching me.
I continued.
*I don’t know who I can trust anymore.*
Those words hurt the most.
Because my mother trusted everyone.
She believed people could change.
She believed kindness mattered.
*Robert knows some of what happened. I asked him to keep you safe. But Maya, if he tells you he had no choice, remember this: fear makes people do terrible things.*
My father’s face changed.
I slowly lowered the letter.
“You knew.””
He looked down.
“I knew she suspected someone.””
“Who?””
“I don’t know.””
“You’re lying.””
“I’m not.””
His voice cracked.
“I swear.””
I looked back at the letter.
The final paragraph was written differently.
The handwriting was uneven.
Like my mother had been rushing.
*If anything happens to me, do not trust anyone who says they are helping you. Find the recording. The truth is hidden where my first song began.*
I stared.
“The recording?””
Adrian stepped closer.
“What recording?””
I shook my head.
“I don’t know.””
My father looked terrified.
“Where did she write that?””
I handed him the letter.
He read it.
Then his face changed.
“Maya.””
“What?””
He looked toward the piano.
“Her first song.””
I frowned.
“What about it?””
“That song wasn’t written here.””
I stood.
“Where was it written?””
My father hesitated.
“In the old studio.””
I had never heard him mention an old studio.
“What studio?””
He looked at the floor.
“Your mother’s first recording room.””
“Where?””
He didn’t answer.
“Dad.””
“It was destroyed.””
My heart sank.
“When?””
“After she died.””
The room went silent.
I looked at Adrian.
“Destroyed?””
He nodded slowly.
“That doesn’t make sense. Why destroy a piece of history?””
Nobody answered.
Then Olivia spoke quietly.
“Because someone wanted to erase what happened there.””
Everyone turned toward her.
My father’s face hardened.
“Olivia.””
She looked scared.
“I didn’t mean to say that.””
I walked toward her.
“You know more.””
“No.””
“Yes.””
She shook her head.
“I only heard conversations.””
“Whose conversations?””
She looked at my father.
Then away.
“Maya…”
“Whose?””
Her voice dropped.
“Your father and someone else.””
My father stepped forward.
“Stop.””
But it was too late.
I heard enough.
“Who was he talking to?””
Olivia swallowed.
“I don’t know his name.””
“Describe him.””
She closed her eyes.
“He came to our house after your mother died.””
My stomach tightened.
“What did he look like?””
“Older. Expensive suit. Scar near his eyebrow.””
The room went cold.
Because I knew that description.
I had seen that man before.
On a magazine cover.
A music executive.
A billionaire.
The man who had tried to buy my label six months ago.
Adrian whispered his name.
“Victor Hale.””
The name hung in the air.
My mother’s warning.
The stolen songs.
The hidden files.
The destroyed studio.
Everything pointed to one person.
Then Claire’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed immediately.
“Maya…”
“What?””
She turned pale.
“The security cameras at your mother’s old studio just activated.””
I stared.
“That place was destroyed.””
Claire shook her head.
“No.””
May you like
She looked at the screen.
“Someone has been inside.””
