In a melodic sonata, in this clean and wholesome romance of fate and secrets,
love strikes an unexpected chord.
Returning to New Harbor after ten years
felt like a daunting crescendo.
I, Aria Reynolds, smashed my car into the town statue and crashed into Elijah Morgan, a serious composer
who seemed more storm than symphony.
We're thrust into a collaboration orchestrating the town's centennial masterpiece,
and sparks fly as we fine-tune our friction into
harmonic resonance.
But as our love builds, I uncover hidden scores from my grandmother that cast shadows on my family's past.
Linked to the mystery of Elijah's brother's death, and a sinister crescendo involving a senator's scandal, danger lurks in every musical bar.
With Victoria Hargrove's death amplifying our peril, we've inadvertently hit a fortissimo in this duet of
love and suspense.
Stashed away in protective custody by the FBI, we endure separation, our hearts composing new sonatas in adversity.
Reuniting in New Harbor to rekindle, our shared melody brings us to the altar, serenading our vows to a
future in perfect pitch.
But harmony hangs in the balance. Can our love stand the tempo of truth's revelations?
Where will the finale take us in this symphony of secrets?
Chapter 1: The Return
I drive too fast. The three wipers can't keep up with the rain. It beats against the windshield like angry fists. My 1963 Jaguar XK-E purrs beneath me. The only faithful thing in my life.
New Harbor appears through the gray curtain of water. Nothing changes in small towns. The same storefronts. The same narrow roads. The same judgments waiting.
My hands grip the wheel tight. Ten years gone. Ten years not enough.
The letter sits heavy in my jacket pocket. Grandma Eloise always did have the last word.
Come home, Aria. There are things you need to know. Things I should have told you.
I press the gas harder. The speedometer climbs. Sixty. Sixty five. Seventy. The road shines black and slick.
"Slow down," I tell myself. But I don't listen. I never do.
The curve comes up fast. Too fast. My tires lose their grip. The wheel spins in my hands. The world becomes a blur of gray and green.
I see it too late. The stone statue of Captain William Harbor. Town founder. Town hero. Town legend. His chiseled marble face watches as my car slides toward him.
The impact comes hard. Metal screams. Glass shatters. My body jerks against the seatbelt. Pain shoots through me.
Then silence. Just the drum of rain on crushed metal.
I breathe. In. Out. Alive.
My door won't open. I kick it once with my knee. Twice. It gives.
Rain soaks me instantly. My legs shake as I step from the wreckage. I'll fix it. Somehow. Captain Harbor has lost an arm. His stone face seems to judge me. Welcome home, prodigal daughter.
People appear like ghosts through the rain. Some stare and point. I hear their whispers.
"That's Eloise Reynolds' granddaughter."
"The wild one who ran off."
"What's she doing back?"
A woman in a bright yellow raincoat pushes through. Her umbrella bobbing above the crowd. "That's quite a crash," she says. "You okay, honey?"
I recognize her. Lucinda Tantor. Town librarian. Collector of secrets.
"I'm fine," I say to no one in particular. "Thanks for asking."
"She's drunk," someone calls out. A woman with hard eyes. "Just like her mother was."
The words hit harder than the crash. Some things never change in New Harbor.
"I'm not drunk!" My voice sounds strange in my ears. "The road was wet!"
"Step back, everyone." A man moves through the crowd. Tall. Broad shoulders. Eyes deep grey-blue like the ocean after a storm.
He stops in front of me and makes a small bow. "My goodness, what a most unfortunate vehicular incident has befallen you on this inclement afternoon. Are you experiencing any corporeal distress or neurological discomfort, my dear lady?"
The crowd goes quiet. I stare at him.
"What?" It's all I can manage.
"Forgive my verbose inquiries. I am merely concerned about your physical wellbeing following such a traumatic collision with our town's historical landmark."
I blink rain from my eyes. "Do you always talk like a dictionary?"