THE EMPTY CHAIR AT HER SISTER’S WEDDING WAS SUPPOSED TO PROVE HER FIANCÉ HAD LEFT HER—BUT WHEN A QUIET STRANGER SAT BESIDE HER, KORA NEVER IMAGINED HE OWNED THE HOTEL, OR THAT HIS FAMILY WAS ALREADY PLANNING THE MARRIAGE THAT COULD DESTROY THEM BOTH

afternoon, Kora had not eaten properly. Had not slept. She sat on her sofa with the Bartók cassette on her lap and thought in flat, painful sentences.

Maybe Cordelia was right.

Maybe the inside of a sentence was not a life.

Maybe Kora had mistaken music for a room.

At one in the morning Sunday, the studio phone rang.

Henry Carrick.

“Miss Whitfield,” he said.continue reading …