Chapter 1: Spotlight and Secrets Collide

At the U.S. debut concert for America’s newest pop sensation, Carter Reed—

The stadium was packed—thirty thousand people roaring with excitement. The energy was off the charts, everyone on their feet, waving phones and glow sticks. The floor vibrated beneath us—seriously, it felt alive. The smell of popcorn and hot dogs drifted through the air, mixing with the sharp tang of sweat and anticipation. You could practically feel the crowd’s pulse—like everyone was waiting for something magical to happen.

The camera swept over the audience.

Suddenly, my face flashed across the giant LED screen. The crowd roared even louder, people pointing and laughing, others craning their necks to see who the camera landed on.

On stage, the man sneered, “Autumn Sullivan, are you walking right into my trap?” His voice echoed through the stadium—smooth, taunting, like he was talking right to me. The air seemed to freeze for a second, everyone caught between confusion and wild excitement.

“Ahhhh! Carter Reed just made an Instagram!”

Wait, what? Suddenly, I jolted awake from my nap, rubbing my ears as I turned over. “Who’s Carter Reed?” My voice was groggy, half-muffled by my sleeve as I blinked up at the ceiling tiles.

“He’s the guy who just swept all the major charts in Europe and America! I heard his mom’s American, but his dad’s from abroad.”

My coworker, Megan Ruiz, had the whole office buzzing. She spun around, literally bouncing, phone already open to Carter’s latest post.

“What? He’s on Instagram?” I sat up straighter, trying to wrap my head around this sudden wave of pop culture drama.

“He’s so handsome, seriously the best-looking guy ever!” Megan gushed, waving her phone at anyone who’d make eye contact.

“His new song is amazing. I’ve been looping it all day.” Another coworker chimed in, earbuds hanging around her neck.

...

I propped up my heavy head and looked around the office.

Honestly? Turns out, there really is no age limit for idol-chasing. Even the usually stoic IT guy was humming one of Carter’s songs under his breath, and the office manager had swapped her screensaver for a concert photo.

“Autumn, why do I feel like his side profile looks weirdly familiar?”

Megan shook my arm. She stared at me, eyes wide. “Doesn’t he look a lot like Lily?” For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

I turned to her, still half-asleep, then snapped to attention. My heart skipped a beat, and a weird chill ran down my back.

Isn’t this the man I went to all that trouble to have a child with?

According to Wikipedia, he only debuted less than half a year ago and is already dominating the charts in Europe and America. His rise was meteoric. Everywhere I turned, everyone was talking about him.

The song I’d been hearing everywhere lately was actually his. I’d heard it in the grocery store, in Megan’s car, even in the elevator at my apartment.

He has a ton of luxury brand endorsements. Billboards with his face were plastered across Times Square, his smirk staring down at the world like he owned it.

I scrolled through his profile, fingers trembling a little, my thumb hovering over his bio as I tried to connect the dots.

Back then, aside from his body, I really didn’t get to know anything else about him. It was all a blur—an impulsive, lonely adventure in a place where no one knew me.

Megan leaned in. “Told you he was handsome! I wanted to recommend him to you before, but you said you weren’t into idol-chasing.”

I waved her off. “Megan, give me a second to think.” My mind was spinning, a hundred questions crowding in all at once.

Suddenly, Megan shot up, hopping in place. “He replied to my comment!”

She handed me her phone, spun around like a maniac, and the whole office crowded over. Everyone craned their necks, trying to see what the fuss was about.

I took the phone, a bad feeling rising in my gut. My gut is usually right. Something about this felt way too personal, like the universe was playing a prank on me.

Holding my breath, I opened the app. Carter had posted a selfie, captioned: [Hey everyone, I’m Carter Reed.]

In less than an hour, there were already over ten thousand comments. The likes were climbing by the second, notifications popping up faster than I could read them.

I tapped into the comments. The top one was Megan’s:

[Hey, do you have a long-lost daughter?]

Carter replied: [Yes.]

A bunch of fangirls replied below:

[Hahaha, is it with me?]

[Babe, I’m your long-lost wife!]

[So jealous, first comment on Carter’s Insta!]

[Haha, Carter is so funny!]

But what if he wasn’t joking—what if he was telling the truth? My stomach twisted, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the joke was on me.

Megan took her phone back from my stiff hand.

I’d heard that celebrities’ Instagram accounts are usually run by teams. I tried to convince myself it was just a PR stunt, but something didn’t add up.

“How did he even notice her comment out of more than ten thousand?”

I couldn’t figure it out, no matter how I tried. I replayed the scene in my head, searching for logic that just wasn’t there.

“I happened to see his post right after he posted it—there were only a dozen comments at the time.”

Megan’s smile stretched so wide it almost reached her ears, her hands shaking me as I nearly collapsed. She was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Girl! Girl! He even sent me a DM!”

Carter sent her a photo—a group shot from a month ago, when I took my daughter Lily and Megan out to eat.

She’d posted that photo on Instagram. The memory flashed through my mind: Lily, cheeks smeared with chocolate, Megan making bunny ears behind her head. Completely ordinary, or so I thought.

Carter asked: [What’s the little one’s name?]

I took a deep, cold breath. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears.

My gut never lies.