Chapter 1 - THE SONG THAT SHOULD HAVE DIED
Julian Sterling heard his son speak before he even saw him.
“Don’t let her go, Daddy!”
He froze in the marble hallway.
For four years, his twin boys had barely spoken.
Now one of them was screaming.
Julian dropped his suitcase.
At the far end of the penthouse, Leo and Noah were wrapped around the waist of a young woman in a gray maid’s uniform. Their faces were buried in her apron. Their tiny shoulders shook with violent sobs.
Victoria Sterling stood over them, furious.
“Get away from my children!” she snapped.
The maid didn’t move.
She was pale, maybe thirty, with dark hair pulled into a loose bun. Julian remembered seeing her employment file.
Elena Cruz.
Temporary household staff.
Quiet. Polite. Almost invisible.
Victoria pointed toward the elevator.
“You’re fired. Get out.”
Leo screamed.
“No!”
The sound hit Julian like a gunshot.
He rushed forward.
“Leo?”
His son looked up.
Tears covered his face.
“Daddy, please.”
Julian crouched.
“What happened?”
Victoria cut in.
“This woman has been manipulating them.”
“That’s not true,” Elena said quietly.
Victoria spun toward her.
“Do not speak.”
Julian raised one hand.
“Victoria.”
His wife stopped.
He looked at Leo again.
“Buddy, why don’t you want Elena to leave?”
Leo grabbed Elena tighter.
“Because she makes the bad dreams stop.”
Julian swallowed.
“What bad dreams?”
Noah covered his ears.
Victoria’s face tightened.
“They’re tired. That’s all.”
Then Leo whispered, “She sings the song.”
Julian’s heartbeat stumbled.
“What song?”
Leo stared at him.
“The secret song.”
Victoria went still.
Elena lowered her eyes.
Julian felt something cold move through his chest.
“Sing it.”
Elena looked up sharply.
“What?”
“The song.”
Victoria stepped between them.
“This is insane.”
“Move.”
“Julian—”
“Move.”
For the first time in twelve years of marriage, Victoria looked afraid of him.
She stepped aside.
Elena took a slow breath.
Then she hummed.
Only six notes.
That was all it took.
Julian forgot how to breathe.
The walls seemed to disappear.
He was twenty-eight again, barefoot in a little apartment in Brooklyn, laughing with a woman named Claire Bennett while rain tapped against the window.
Claire sat at an old piano.
Her fingers moved over the keys.
“I wrote this for someday,” she had said.
“For what?”
“Our babies.”
Claire smiled.
Then she sang the same melody.
The melody Elena was humming now.
Julian grabbed the edge of a table.
“No.”
Elena stopped.
Victoria whispered, “Julian…”
He looked at his wife.
Claire had died four years ago.
At St. Matthew’s Hospital.
The same night Leo and Noah were born.
Julian had seen the death certificate.
He had paid for the funeral.
He had stood beside a closed coffin.
Yet his sons knew her song.
A song that had never been recorded.
A song Claire had never performed.
A song Victoria had never heard.
Or so Julian had always believed.
He stared at Elena.
“Where did you learn that?”
Elena’s lips trembled.
Before she could answer, Noah suddenly pointed at Victoria.
“Mama knows.”
Victoria’s eyes widened.
Julian slowly turned toward her.
“What does he mean?”
Victoria backed away.
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
Noah began shaking.
May you like
Then, in a broken little voice, he said five words that changed everything.
“She was at the hospital.”
