**Chapter 2: A Glimmer of Hope**

The warm sunlight streaming through the windows seemed to amplify the buzzing of Halsey's phone, and she felt a spark of hope ignite within her as she read her mother's text. She quickly typed out a response, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to convey the emotions that had been bottled up inside her for so long. "Hey, Mom, I love you too. I'm okay." The words felt like a lie, but she knew she had to keep up the charade, at least for now. As she hit send, Halsey felt a sense of relief wash over her. It was a small act of defiance, but it was a start. She turned to Franklin, who was watching her with big brown eyes, and whispered, "I think it's time we made a plan, buddy." The Labrador wagged his tail, as if sensing that something was about to change. Halsey's thoughts turned to her finances, and she knew she had to be careful. Alev controlled her accounts, and she had no idea how much money she had access to. But she did have one thing that might give her an upper hand – her music. She had been working on new material in secret, sneaking away to her home studio whenever Alev was out. The songs were her therapy, her escape, and her truth. With newfound determination, Halsey made her way to the studio, Franklin by her side. As she sat down at the piano, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. The music began to flow, and she lost herself in the melodies and lyrics. For the first time in months, she felt like herself again – creative, free, and alive. The music poured out of her like a cathartic release, and she knew she had to get it out into the world. She started to think about her team, her manager, and her publicist. They had all but given up on her, but she knew they still cared. She could use them to her advantage. As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the mansion, Halsey felt a sense of hope that she hadn't felt in a long time. She knew the road ahead would be difficult, but she was ready to face it head-on. She started to make a plan, typing out messages on her phone, reaching out to her team, and making secret arrangements. Alev walked into the room, his eyes scanning the space until they landed on Halsey, sitting at the piano, Franklin by her side. For a moment, he just stood there, his expression unreadable. Then, his face darkened, and he took a step closer to her. "What's going on here?" he growled, his voice low and menacing. Halsey's heart sank, but she refused to back down. She turned to face him, her music still echoing in the air, and said, "I'm writing music, Alev. I'm creating again." The words felt like a challenge, and she knew she had to be prepared for the consequences. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like she had something to fight for – her music, her freedom, and her life.