Elsewhere.
Inside the recording studio.
Eliana was working on her piece for the first live episode of Voice of Heaven.
Nothing was landing right, no matter how many times she tried.
Eventually she gave up, changed clothes, and headed to the dance studio next door to rough out some simple choreography to go with it.
Voice of Heaven was a music competition first and foremost, but a little movement never hurt a performance.
The practice complex dance studios, vocal booths, dressing rooms, a café, storage belonged entirely to Foster Entertainment.
Foster Entertainment was one of the most recognized names in Ashford City’s entertainment scene, and its facilities were good enough that even outside artists came through regularly to rent space or rehearse.
Since marrying Nathaniel, Eliana’s days had settled into three fixed obligations.
First: checking in on his grandparents, keeping close tabs on their health.
Second: working alongside his secretarial staff to manage his schedule, including a fair amount of sensitive Cole family documentation.
That included an entire division still quietly overseeing the assets absorbed from the Hart family after its collapse staffed by different people now, but she navigated all of it easily.
Third: regular sessions here, at Foster’s practice building, which she’d always framed as simply keeping up an old hobby from her music days.
In reality, this was where she recorded every demo she’d ever released under her pen name, N.
So her showing up here today wasn’t unusual at all.
She’d pulled her hair back to practice, still in the same outfit from earlier nothing about her appearance stood out.
What she didn’t notice was the extra pair of eyes now watching the dance studio from outside.
She tried run after run of choreography.
None of it clicked.
Something felt off all day.
She couldn’t place it.
Not the song, not the movement, something deeper, harder to name.
A low, persistent unease sat in her chest, like something was coming.
It kept dragging her focus sideways.
She took a breath, closed her eyes, and tried to reset.
Eventually she gave up on the whole session.
She checked the time.
9 p.m.
already.
She shook her head, wiped the sweat from her brow, and decided to call it a night and pick things back up tomorrow.
It had been a long day.
Exhausted, she skipped changing out of her practice clothes entirely, threw on a coat, and headed for the parking lot.
April in Ashford City the nights were already warming up.
Nine o’clock, and the city’s nightlife was just waking up around her.
Traffic streamed steadily past outside, the whole city buzzing with quiet energy.
She rode the elevator down from the practice building into the garage.
Before she’d even reached her car, a sudden, sharp wave of unease hit her out of nowhere.
Nothing she could point to.
No obvious cause.
Her heart slammed against her ribs, pounding loud enough to drown out everything else.
Adrenaline took over before conscious thought could catch up she threw herself sideways into a flowerbed.
A car grazed past exactly where she’d been standing a half-second earlier.
Close enough that the wind off it caught her coat and sent it snapping loudly against her legs.
Cold sweat broke out across her skin.
If she hadn’t jumped when she did, that car would have hit her dead-on.
Before the shock could even fully register, she watched the black sedan untouched by the near-miss swing around and come straight back toward the flowerbed where she’d landed.
A low concrete curb bordered the flowerbed, knee-high at best.
The car was aiming straight through it.
This wasn’t an accident.
Someone was hunting her, specifically.
Who?
Why?
How long had they been waiting?
Had they been watching her rehearse this whole time?
Was there someone inside the building too a second person, working with whoever was behind the wheel?
All of it flashed through her mind in half a second.
Then instinct took over.
She scrambled clear as the black sedan barreled toward her, straight into the flowerbed.
Rrrrrrrr
The engine screamed, tires spinning against torn-up dirt.
While the car was momentarily stuck, Eliana bolted for her own vehicle.
Running toward the crowded plaza wasn’t an option too far, too little cover along the way.
She’d be run down before she made it halfway there.
Her car was the safer bet.
Get in, drive straight to the nearest police station.
Fortunately, it wasn’t far.
Pure survival instinct carried her the rest of the way; she covered the distance in seconds, and threw herself into the driver’s seat.
The door had barely clicked shut
BANG.
The black sedan slammed into her car.
The whole frame shook violently, and Eliana’s head spun from the impact.
Ugh
Nausea hit her hard.
VROOM.
The sedan reversed and came at her again.
She fought the nausea down and got the engine started.
Foot to the floor.
CRASH.
Her car lurched forward, and the black sedan plowed into the vehicle parked beside her instead.
She didn’t hesitate wrenched the wheel and cut across the lot, pushing out onto the main road.
The sedan reappeared in her mirror almost immediately, still chasing.
She grabbed her phone and dialed emergency services.
The call connected fast.
“Hello I’m being followed by a black sedan, plate AB-1234.
The driver just tried to run me over.
I’m on First Avenue right now, heading toward the East Ashford Police Precinct.
I need protection, please!”
She rattled off the plate number from her mirror in clipped, efficient sentences.
The dispatcher moved fast, already looping in the nearest precinct.
On First Avenue, Eliana kept the pedal down, racing toward the station.
It had all happened so fast.
Her thoughts spiraled, scattered.
Who would want this?
She ran through everyone connected to her.
Nathaniel.
Vivian.
The Cole family.
What was left of the Hart family.
Too many names.
No clear answer.
She kept checking the mirror, again and again.
At the next intersection, the black sedan seemed to realize where she was headed and peeled off down a side road.
Watching it disappear, Eliana finally let out a shaking breath.
She stayed on the line with the dispatcher the whole way.
Following their directions, she kept driving toward East Ashford Precinct.
Only when she saw the station’s doors and the officers already waiting outside for her did she finally let herself fully relax.
She pulled into the marked spot as instructed and felt the last of the tension drain out of her.
That’s when everything she’d been forcing down under sheer adrenaline came rushing back at once.
Ugh
A violent wave of nausea hit her, and a sharp pain bloomed low in her stomach.