She Hears the Music I Haven't Written

§PROLOGUE

The water stole her breath.

Just before the crushing weight of darkness took everything, Brielle Sheridan’s survival instincts screamed, forcing her mouth open in a desperate, futile gasp for air.

She inhaled a lungful of icy river water and woke up choking.

The world exploded back into focus with a ragged, desperate cough that tore through her throat.

She was in her dorm room.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

With a trembling hand, she slapped her own cheek.

The sting was sharp, real.

This wasn't a dream.

She had been reborn.

§01

"Brie? You okay over there?"

The voice, belonging to her roommate Maya, pulled Brielle from the suffocating grip of her memories.

Maya peered over from the adjacent bed, her brow furrowed in concern as she stared at the fresh red mark on Brielle's face. "Did you just slap yourself? Rough dream?"

Brielle’s mouth was dry, her voice a hoarse whisper when she finally managed to speak. "Mosquito."

"Ah." Maya nodded, satisfied with the explanation, and turned her attention back to the reality show playing on her laptop. "Hey, by the way, what about that new song you were working on? When are you dropping it? Your fans are getting restless, and I'm ready to be your number one hype woman."

The new song.

A cold dread, sharp and familiar, pierced through Brielle.

Her gaze snapped to her phone, resting on the nightstand. The finished audio file was saved there, a musical masterpiece waiting for its final lyrics.

In her previous life, it was today. Today, a storm of inspiration had struck, the perfect words flowing out of her to complete the melody. High on the thrill of creation, she had immediately uploaded the demo to her TikTok.

She had thought it was the beginning of her career.

Instead, it was the beginning of her nightmare.

§02

Within a single hour, the hashtag #BrielleSheridanIsAPlagiarist was trending.

Drama channels and gossip blogs, smelling blood in the water, descended like vultures. They broke down the music, created side-by-side comparisons of the sheet music, and churned out endless videos proving her guilt.

For every person praising Annelise Montgomery, a thousand flooded Brielle’s accounts with insults and death threats.

She posted a video explaining herself, showing her entire creative process from the first chord to the final mix. They called it a performance, a desperate attempt at damage control.

Annelise’s tearful, red-eyed smile to the camera sealed Brielle’s fate, turning countless strangers into her personal enemies. They photoshopped her face onto tombstones. They sent funeral wreaths to her parents, the shock and grief triggering her father's heart attack.

Her phone became a weapon used against her, an endless barrage of calls and notifications from unknown numbers, a digital mob screaming for her blood.

Days blurred into sleepless nights. Her mind, frayed and fragile, finally snapped.

One wrong step on a rain-slicked bridge, and she was falling.

The memory of the fall, the impact, the suffocating water—it made her whole body tremble uncontrollably.

Her fingers, shaking, unlocked her phone. She opened TikTok.

She searched for Annelise Montgomery.

A new video had been posted an hour ago.

Annelise sat at a grand piano, the picture of elegance and grace. Her fingers danced across the keys, playing a short, achingly beautiful melody.

The melody Brielle had composed.

The caption read: *Surprise countdown… T-minus 24 hours.*

§03

Annelise was a dance major. Her viral fame had come from a stunning contemporary ballet piece she performed during freshman orientation. That single performance had cemented her status as the campus queen of The Allendale Conservatory.

Even Jesse Warren, the boy Brielle had grown up with, her childhood friend, was utterly captivated by her. He would bring Annelise up in every conversation, his eyes glued to her whenever she was in the room.

Brielle had quietly packed away her crush on him, settling for the role of a supportive friend.

Now, on TikTok, Annelise had amassed millions of followers with her dance videos. Every post was a sensation, garnering hundreds of thousands of shares.

This piano video was no different. Her fans were ecstatic. A goddess who could also play piano? The comments section exploded with adoration.

But Brielle’s brow furrowed. That wasn't just *her* melody. It was a specific, intricate passage from the heart of her new song.

The song she hadn't released yet.

The song whose complete sheet music existed only on her own laptop. She had played snippets for people, sure, but never the whole thing, never in sequence. How could Annelise possibly have it?

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