The conservatory was quiet at night.
Most of the students had already gone home, leaving the long hallways dim and peaceful. The only sounds were the occasional footsteps of a late student and the distant echo of music drifting from practice rooms.
Elena pushed open the door to one of the smaller rehearsal halls.
She liked this room.
It was simple, just a grand piano near the center and tall windows overlooking the dark city outside.
No crowd.
No whispers.
No strangers watching her from across a café.
She walked slowly to the piano and sat down on the bench.
For a moment, she didn't play.
Her fingers rested lightly on the keys.
Still.
The events of the past two days kept replaying in her mind.
The gala.
Seraphina.
The strange phone call.
The man in the café.
And Adrian's calm voice saying it had all started.
Elena exhaled slowly.
"Too much drama," she murmured.
Music had always been the one place where things made sense.
So she began to play.
The first notes were soft and careful, filling the quiet room like a familiar conversation.
Her fingers moved instinctively across the keys, the melody flowing gently through the empty hall.
Gradually, the tension she had been carrying began to fade.
Music had a way of doing that.
A few minutes later, Elena felt it.
That strange sensation.
The feeling that someone was listening.
She paused.
The last note lingered briefly in the air.
Then silence returned.
Elena glanced toward the doorway.
The hallway outside was dark.
Empty.
She turned back to the piano.
"You're imagining things," she told herself quietly.
Still…
She started playing again.
This time the melody was slower.
More thoughtful.
But halfway through the piece, she noticed movement near the door.
A shadow shifted slightly.
Elena stopped playing immediately.
"Hello?"
The door opened slowly.
And Adrian stepped inside.
Elena blinked.
"You have a habit of appearing like that."
Adrian closed the door behind him.
"You left the café early."
She raised an eyebrow.
"And you know that because…?"
"Marcus mentioned it."
"That man knows everything."
Adrian didn't argue.
He walked a few steps into the room, his gaze briefly taking in the quiet space.
"You like this room."
"Yes."
"How do you know that?"
"You played here when we visited the conservatory years ago."
Elena stared at him.
"You remember that?"
"Yes."
She shook her head slightly.
"Your memory is unsettling."
Adrian stopped beside the piano.
"You stopped playing."
"You interrupted."
"That wasn't intentional."
Elena studied him for a moment.
"Were you following me?"
"No."
"That pause says otherwise."
Adrian ignored the comment.
"Play again."
Elena crossed her arms.
"That sounded suspiciously like an order."
"A request."
"Those sound similar when you say them."
Adrian's gaze moved to the piano keys.
"You play differently when you're thinking."
Elena tilted her head.
"What does that mean?"
"The melody slows down."
She blinked.
"You really do observe everything."
"Yes."
A quiet moment passed between them.
Then Elena sighed and turned back to the piano.
"Fine."
Her fingers touched the keys again.
This time she played something softer.
A quiet piece she often used when practicing alone.
The room filled once more with music.
Adrian stood nearby, silent as always.
Watching.
Listening.
After a minute, Elena spoke without stopping the melody.
"You used to stand like that at the academy."
Adrian didn't respond.
"In the music hall," she continued. "By the door. Like you didn't want to be noticed."
"That sounds accurate."
"And yet somehow you were always there."
Adrian's voice was calm.
"You noticed."
"Of course I noticed."
She glanced up at him briefly while still playing.
"You listened like it mattered."
"It did."
The honesty in his voice made her pause for just a second before continuing.
"Why?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at the piano keys beneath her fingers.
"At the time," he said