Chapter 4 - The Story Charlotte Wanted Mia to BelieveCharlotte recovered quickly.
She always recovered quickly.
“I want Anna alive,” she said.
Mia held the guitar against her chest.
“Then why are you scared?”
“I'm not.”
“You looked scared.”
Charlotte sighed.
“You're observant.”
“My mom says people say that when they wish you weren't.”
That almost made Charlotte smile.
Almost.
She sat on the edge of the sofa.
“All right. No more pretending.”
Mia stayed standing.
“Julian was your father.”
Not think.
Was.
Charlotte continued.
“He and Anna planned to leave Los Angeles together.”
“Why?”
“My father.”
“The silver-haired man?”
“Victor Sterling.”
Mia had seen him in photographs.
He looked like the kind of grandfather movie villains tried to imitate.
Charlotte said,
“Victor controlled the family company, the money, and most of Julian's life.”
“What company?”
“Sterling Media.”
Mia knew the name.
Movie studios.
Music publishing.
Streaming.
Billboards around Los Angeles.
Charlotte watched recognition arrive.
“Julian didn't want it.”
“Then why did your dad care who he married?”
“Because Anna wasn't controllable.”
Mia almost smiled.
“That sounds like Mom.”
“Yes.”
For the first time, Charlotte's affection sounded real.
“She challenged Victor. She asked where money went. Why certain artists lost their rights. Why Julian's trust gave Victor so much control.”
“What trust?”
Charlotte hesitated.
Mia noticed.
“The money part.”
“Yes.”
Charlotte leaned forward.
“Julian inherited shares from our grandmother. If he married or had a child, those shares would eventually leave Victor's control.”
“So your dad hated Mom because she could have his money?”
“Power.”
Charlotte corrected.
“For Victor, money is just a way to measure power.”
Mia looked at the photograph.
“What happened to Julian?”
“A car accident.”
“Mom says accidents can be lies.”
Charlotte flinched.
“What did she tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“That isn't true.”
Mia shrugged.
Charlotte sighed again.
“Julian was driving through Laurel Canyon. His car went through a guardrail.”
“Was Mom with him?”
“No.”
Mia remembered the newspaper clipping Anna kept hidden inside an old cookbook.
A burned car.
A road.
She'd never known whose.
Charlotte continued.
“Anna disappeared that night.”
“Before or after?”
Charlotte's eyes lifted.
“What?”
“The crash.”
“After.”
“Did you see her?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
Charlotte had been with Anna the night Mia's father died.
Mia asked,
“What happened?”
Charlotte looked away.
“Anna blamed my family.”
“For the accident?”
“She blamed everyone.”
“Did she blame you?”
Silence.
Mia stepped closer.
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte's answer came quietly.
“Why?”
“She thought I told Victor where Julian was going.”
“Did you?”
Charlotte closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Mia's throat tightened.
“Then maybe Mom wasn't suspicious.”
Charlotte opened her eyes.
“I made a mistake.”
“Did your mistake kill him?”
The question landed.
Charlotte stared at the floor.
“No.”
Too soft.
Mia didn't believe her.
Charlotte stood.
“I want to show you something.”
She walked toward the piano.
Opened a bench.
Inside were old recordings.
Photographs.
A small digital player.
Charlotte selected a file.
Julian's voice filled the room.
Mia stopped breathing.
“Anna, stop laughing. I'm recording.”
A woman laughed.
Her mother.
Younger.
Happy.
Mia had almost forgotten that version of her.
Then guitar.
The melody.
One note.
Two.
Three.
Mia's hands began shaking.
It was the song.
Julian played the same eleven notes Mia had performed on the rooftop.
Charlotte watched her carefully.
Then Julian stopped.
Anna's voice:
“You forgot the ending.”
Julian laughed.
“No. The ending's just ours.”
The recording ended.
Mia stared.
Charlotte said,
“That's why I recognized it.”
Mia's eyes filled.
“My dad wrote it?”
“He and Anna wrote it together.”
Mia looked down at the old guitar.
“So that's why Mom taught me.”
“Probably.”
Probably.
Charlotte still wasn't telling everything.
Mia wiped her eyes.
“Why do you want the last three notes?”
Charlotte's expression hardened almost invisibly.
“I don't.”
“You asked about them.”
“I asked because Julian always played fourteen.”
“Mom said never to play them.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Charlotte stepped closer.
“Mia, your mother spent years running.”
“She had reasons.”
“She also became afraid of everyone.”
“You?”
Charlotte stopped.
Mia continued.
“She was afraid of you.”
Charlotte looked genuinely hurt.
Then a doorbell rang.
Nora appeared in the hallway.
“Ms. Sterling.”
“What?”
“Mr. Reed is here.”
Charlotte's face changed.
Mia knew the name immediately.
The man from the phone.
Graham.
Charlotte stood.
“I told him not to come.”
Nora lowered her voice.
“He says your father knows.”
Charlotte went pale.
Mia's stomach dropped.
Victor Sterling knew she was here.
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And suddenly Charlotte wasn't the person in the room who looked most dangerous.
She looked terrified.
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