Kai stood stock-still behind the piano, heart racing like the very chords he'd just struck. Eléa ran to the door, opened it—
No one.
Just the still length of the Parisian street, the dying echo of footsteps… and a line of raindrops sparkling on the cobblestones.
Kai trailed slowly, his chest constricted.
"Perhaps it was no one," Eléa said quietly, though her voice implied she didn't think so.
But Kai stepped outside anyway, eyes scanning left, then right. The same tug he'd felt for days now gnawed at him again, stronger this time—an invisible thread pulling taut.
Just then, a figure rounded the corner across the street—hood up, umbrella low, walking fast.
Kai's breath caught in his throat. He took a step forward.
But a car passed between them.
And when it was gone… so was the figure.
Rain started falling in earnest now.
And on the opposite side of the city, Noah stopped walking—shivering as if someone had just spoken his name.
Kai didn't hesitate—he ran.
