Chapter 28

Raegan

Mama and Cheyenne are seated at their last interview inside the media tent as Adele, Hattie, and I watch from the sidelines. The gal interviewing them—Tonya, with CMT—is around my age and has mentioned multiple times that this is her first time at Watershed and how she's done all sorts of extra homework on the headliners to ensure she gets an invite back. Though my mama is all smiles for the camera, I can tell by the way she stretches her calf by lifting the toe of her boot that she's ready to call it a night. She hasn't done such a high-energy show like this in ages. She must be exhausted. And she still has a couple of song collaborations set for tomorrow. My phone vibrates against my palm, and I find a text from Micah.

Micah D., bus-driving ex-therapist:

Hey, can we take a walk? I need to process some information with you.

I can feel my brow rumple at the odd expression. Process some information?

Raegan:

Of course. We're just finishing up here. I can meet you at the bus in a few. Are you okay?

Micah D., bus-driving ex-therapist:

Not sure.

I'm still distracted by his text when I overhear the interviewer start her wrap-up.

"What our audience can't see here is what an incredible support system Luella has in her three daughters. They're all standing off camera here, waiting to dote on their mother"—she leans forward—"and likely on you, too, Cheyenne. I saw the hug your mama and aunties gave you when you came off that stage. They're proud of you."

Cheyenne grins at us. "I'm proud of them, too."

Tonya twists back to Mama. "I'm sure in a family like yours, there must be all sorts of stories, which is why I was thrilled when my producer stumbled across news of a book in the works written by your daughter. I'm a huge book nerd, and I just love a juicy origin story." She waggles her eyebrows. "Is it too early to give us a teaser?"

A sickening hush falls over the tent as my pulse slams to a stop. Mama lifts her head to scan the three of us while Cheyenne's panicked gaze darts straight to me. I feel the millisecond Adele tracks it, and every second thereafter when her gaze drills a hole through my temple.

No. No, no, no, no, no ...

My mama's practiced smile holds, but there's a hesitation in her speech. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I can't say much about it."

Tonya bobs her head and glances down at her notes. "Oh, of course, well, we'll be sure to check back before it releases next year, but I know I won't be the only one adding it to my shelf."

I don't know if the interview lasts another hour or another minute because every sound mushes together to form one ugly mosh pit of noise inside my skull. I'm aware of everything and nothing and then it's over. Only, before I can utter a word in explanation, Adele cuts me off with a hard shake of her head. "Save it for the bus."

Our silent walk across the dark and dusty parking lot feels like a death march, but try as I might, I cannot make sense of how this is happening. I haven't even signed a contract yet!

The instant the five of us Farrows are closed inside the stuffy bus, Adele speaks calmly from the bottom of the inside steps. "Tell me it's not true, Raegan."

I was expecting anger—rage, even—but the pinch of pain in her voice momentarily freezes my own.

"Tell me the secret meeting you had with that editor wasn't you going behind your family's back. Tell me you didn't sell your mother out just so you could finally see your name printed on a book cover."

"You've been talking to an editor?" Hattie's face looks as if I just struck her across the cheek.

The tiny bag of pretzels I consumed before the show threatens to come up, and my heart is beating so violently inside my chest that it's a battle to hear myself think. "No, I mean, yes, I did meet with an editor a few weeks ago, but that meeting wasn't—"

Adele pushes away from the closed door and takes each step into the lounge at an excruciatingly slow pace. "What did you do, Raegan?"

"Adele," Mama admonishes. "Stop this madness right now. You know your sister would never do anything without asking my permission first. That interviewer was obviously mistaken."

Her defense of my character slices so deeply I wonder if a person can die from internal bleeding caused by shame.

"Mama," I whisper shakily, as sweat gathers as the back of my neck from lack of air circulation. "I was going to tell you everything after the festival. I've only written three chapters so far, and I'd never sign a contract without your approval first. But my book isn't the only—"

"If you didn't sign anything, then how do you explain the media?" Adele presses. "How do you explain your name being attached to a book we knew nothing about?"

"Adele, please." I swing around to face her. "I was going to tell you after we left Tulsa, that day on the bus when I sat with you at the table and you told me you didn't want any more distractions—"

She jerks back. "Is that your defense? To blame me for your disloyalty?"

"Stop." Cheyenne pushes forward. "Auntie Rae is writing this book because she's trying to help us—listen to her."

Adele's mouth smacks open, and for a full three seconds her gaze drags between my niece and me. The gutted look on her face sears into my conscience. "You confided your secret book to my daughter?"

Mama's eyes are glassy when she lowers herself onto the sofa. "Help us understand what you've done, sweetheart."

Heat builds behind my eyes. "The week before we left, I found out from a trusted friend who works in publishing that there's a book being released about Mama. The book deal was signed this spring, and the author has gone to great lengths to protect their anonymity, including using a ghostwriter. I read their sample chapters."

Hattie plops down on the arm of the sofa Mama's seated on with an expression I've seen far too many times over the last year. The same expression I've feared ever since Chip confirmed the unsanctioned book was likely the work of someone harboring a vendetta against our family.

I fight to speak with a confidence I don't feel. "From the little I was able to read, the proposed book synopsis includes some unflattering history about Mama and the label that has never been shared publicly. Including ..." I hesitate. "A claim to fraud and the mismanagement of company finances. That's the reason I'm writing a book in my own words—to create a diversion by offering fans a credible narrative to distract from the fake one. Something real and true that honors Mama and our family history at the label."

"Let me read them," Adele demands.

"What?"

She holds out her hand. "Let me read the sample chapters so I can figure out who's behind this. There can't be too many options considering ninety-nine percent of the people with access to our family have signed NDAs. I'll figure it out and put a stop to it."

"I don't have them," I admit.

The furrow in her brow deepens. "What do you mean you don't have them?"

"They were sent to me in confidence, and I promised to delete them as soon as I read them. My editor friend could lose his job if—"

"You're worried about an editor losing his job? Raegan, wake up!" Adele grips her head. "Do you have any clue how damaging something like this could be to everything we've worked so hard for? No, of course you don't. Because you aren't the one burdened with the financial future of the company."

"Adele," Mama cuts in. "You need to calm down and think about your blood pressure."

Adele rips off her blazer and tosses it on the chair. "My blood pressure is low on the priority list at the moment. If I don't squash these rumors immediately, our deal could be off."

Hattie leans forward uneasily. "What deal?"

Adele and Mama exchange a look. But it's clear from Adele's tight-lipped expression that's all we're getting from her.

Mama turns to us. "Sit down, girls."

"No. Do not sit down." Adele stubbornly remains standing while Cheyenne and I take a seat on the opposite sofa. "Mother, you cannot talk about this. We are still in negotiations. You signed paperwork."

Mama ignores the warning. "Two years ago, I asked your sister to pursue partnering with an investment firm for the label." At our shocked faces, she raises a palm. "It was my decision, and I would make the same decision again if given the chance. The load is too much for Adele to carry on her own. She found a private investor about eighteen months ago, but sadly we lost them due to ... family matters."

"Due to Peter," Adele corrects sharply, and she seems to miss the way Hattie winces. "Don't protect him. His actions were reprehensible, and he put the company and our family in a precarious position for far too long. No business or company would touch us with our tanking ratings and our top-selling artists pulling out left and right, thanks to Francesca. The label was on the verge of bankruptcy, and losing that deal almost forfeited everything Daddy worked so hard for. If not for the resurrection of ‘Crossing Bridges,' we would have lost it ... and likely more. Those royalties have paid off a massive amount of debt and will float us for now, but not forever. Which is why we're still in negotiation with a new partner." She turns back to me. "So, no, we don't need a diversion, Raegan. What we need is to destroy whoever is stupid enough to think they can go up against us and win. This could likely be our last chance at securing a partner willing to agree to our terms and keep the label in our family name."

It takes everything in me to force the words past my shame. "I know who's behind it."

"You do?" Hattie asks, her voice as thin as my own.

I don't want to face my family. I don't even want to face myself.

Adele zeroes in on me. "You've known who it is, and you said nothing?"

Tears climb my throat. "I was only trying to protect ... people." Hattie is who I don't say.

"Who is it?" Adele demands in a voice that sounds dangerously close to breaking.

I swallow back my tears, knowing that once it's out, everything will change.

I look at Hattie, and despite the stuffy air inside this bus, she's wrapped her arms around herself in anticipation. She's always been so much smarter than she's given credit for. Of course she's figured it out by now.

"I'm so sorry, Hattie." I say keeping my gaze locked on my middle sister. "But I believe it's ... Peter."

The silence that follows is so isolating that when I finally dare a glance at Adele, it's the first time I see more fear in her eyes than anger. Whatever relief I hoped would come once the truth was finally out and all my secrets were revealed was a myth. This feeling is ten times worse.

"Why do you think it's him?" Mama's question warbles.

"Because he's the only one who makes sense with what I read. I didn't want it to be him, but who knows your stories of the early years well enough to write them? It started at your camp days with Lynn, and by the third chapter, it was the story of your real wedding date with Daddy and how we celebrated every year with hot chicken and a family pool party that ended with Daddy reciting his wedding vows to you. It was both specific and personal. Peter had access, and he has motive."

Hattie bursts up from the sofa and runs down the steps and out the bus before any of us can stop her. I stand to go after her, but Adele holds up her palm and tells Cheyenne to go after her instead.

The minute my niece is out the door, Adele looks at me as if she doesn't even know who I am.

"How could you keep something like this a secret from us for weeks? Do you really have such low regard for our family—for me?"

"No, I—"

"You should have told us the second you caught wind of this."

"I should have, you're right, and I'm sorry, but I'm not the only one who's been keeping secrets," I push. "I had no idea about a partner acquisition."

"The difference, Raegan, is that the secrets I keep are for the betterment of the whole family, while yours are only to better yourself."

Pain radiates through my chest as her words puncture and burrow.

Mama won't look at me, and Adele won't look anywhere else.

"I thought I could help," I try one last time. "I still think what I'm writing can help. Peter is estranged, his word is tainted and marred." I press a hand to my heart. "But I'm Mama's daughter."

"And yet for weeks that daughter has been sneaking around behind our backs, spending her free time writing a book while she knows our true enemy is out there plotting an attack with his own." She straightens and shakes her head. "Well, congratulations, Raegan. I hope your dream was worth it, because it likely just cost the family thirty years in the recording business."