The last time Leo had seen her was ten years ago, backstage at a folk club in Portland. She had been tuning a battered guitar, humming something she hadn't written down yet. "If you ever lose me," she'd said with a half-smile, "look in the forgotten music."
He wasn't there for jazz, punk, or the rare soul 45s that made this place legendary. He was searching for a woman named Christiana Cinn Woodman. Searching for- Christiana Cinn woodman in-All C...
Then she vanished. No social media. No forwarding address. Just occasional postcards with no return address, postmarked from towns so small they barely appeared on maps. The last time Leo had seen her was
Leo pulled out a plain white sleeve. Inside was the record—and a folded note in Christiana's handwriting: "Leo — Play track 3. Then meet me where all cities begin with C. You'll know." He was searching for a woman named Christiana Cinn Woodman