It was Saturday, and little Nina had the day off from school.


    Crystal stayed home with her, while Briony and James drove Gwendolyn White to her weekend ss before heading to the studio together.


    They''d barely stepped through the door when Hannah stood up from her desk and gestured toward the reception, "Briony, someone left flowers for you."


    Briony paused and nced toward the front desk.


    A bouquet of white roses sat in a tall vase, impossible to miss.


    "Garry again?" James frowned, sounding unimpressed. "Couldn''t he be a bit more original for once?"


    Briony didn''t even spare the flowers a nce as she headed for her office. "Same as always, Hannah-give them to the café downstairs."


    "You got it!" Hannah called back.


    James followed Briony inside, shutting the door behind them. They settled onto the sofa.


    Briony turned to James. "That talent show just started-the one Ottilie''s in."


    "Ottilie?" James searched his memory. "Who''s that?"


    "My aunt''s daughter," Briony replied. "She''s gone viral. Search her name and you''ll see her highlight clips everywhere."


    James pulled out his phone and tapped open a short video app.


    A quick search for "Ottilie" brought up a video of her performing her original song on stage.


    James watched, then offered a blunt assessment. "The song''s pretty good. Singing''s...okay at best."


    Briony nodded. "Check out thements."


    James scrolled down-and stared.


    Every singlement was raving about Rosita.


    He looked closer. Wait a second.


    The song Ottilie performed was written andposed by Rosita?


    "Rosita wrote this?" James frowned. "That song uses traditional instruments-and unless I''m wrong, that''s a pentatonic scale in there. Mrs. Winslow said Rosita couldn''t coax a tune out of a violin after half a year of lessons, and now she''sposing this?"


    James had grown up with his grandfather''s old records and had picked up a thing


    or two about folk music and healing melodies.


    The song Ottilie sang was called "Grandpa''s Paintbrush." It wove in pentatonic


    scales and even slipped in some Southern dialect in the lyrics.


    Since when did Rosita know Southern dialect?


    "What''s the deal between Ottilie and Rosita, anyway?" James asked.


    "Lauren and Ottilie''s mom, Melody, are sisters. That makes Ottilie and Rosita cousins."


    James processed this. "So Ottilie got into the show because Rosita pulled some strings?"


    "Exactly. Rosita set things up in advance. Ottilie''s a lock for the top three-she''ll probably take the trophy, unless something wild happens."


    "Rigged, huh?" James rolled his eyes. "So Rosita secures Ottilie the win, and in return, Ottilie performs these songs to build up Rosita''s genius songwriter image?"


    "Bingo."


    James let out a disbelievingugh. "ssic Rosita-two birds, one stone. Honestly, she could''ve made a fortune as a spy with that level of scheming."


    Briony''s eyes sparkled. "Aren''t you curious where they got the song?"


    James scoffed. "Probably bought it off someone. That''s how it works in the industry-half those so-called singer-songwriters just pay ghostwriters. Nothing new


    Briony watched him, a sly smile ying on her lips.


    The smile made James pause. Something was off.


    "Wait a second," he said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Don''t tell me you wrote that song?"


    Briony lifted an eyebrow. "What do you think?"