The piano's final note still lingered in Alex's ears long after Elias vanished down the hall.
She hadn't moved.
Not when he passed within inches of her shoulder.
Not when he said those words like they cost him nothing.
Not even when the door gently shut behind him, clicking with the finality of a punctuation mark.
"Don't worry. It wasn't real."
That voice.
It wasn't like anything she'd ever heard.
Not just beautiful — unnatural. Like someone sang the exact frequency of memory and longing and every thing you didn't know you missed.
Her fingers still hovered in midair like she'd tried to catch something before it disappeared. But it already had.
Who the hell is he?
She replayed the moment. The way he sat at the keys — not dramatic, not showing off, just... being. The way the notes bent beneath his touch like they wanted to follow him. The way his hum felt less like sound and more like gravity.
She hated him for it.
But she also… didn't.
Alex finally blinked, shook herself, and glanced around the room.
Empty now.
Just a scuffed floor, a dusty piano, and the sound of her own breath catching in her throat.
Her mind started to race — cataloging what she saw, analyzing his behavior, trying to find something that made it make sense.
But nothing did.
Not the voice.
Not the way he walked away.
And definitely not the part of her that wanted to chase him.