The morning started with music.
Not loud music—just a soft piano melody drifting up from the downstairs parlor. I didn't know the song, but I could tell it was Alisa playing. There's a way her hands move across the keys that makes everything feel slower. Softer. Like time itself pauses just to listen.
I sat up in bed and stretched. The windows were already open, sunlight pouring in like liquid gold across the polished floor. I hadn't even heard her come in.
"Good morning," I called.
No answer.
She must have opened the windows earlier. Of course she had.
By the time I got downstairs, the music had stopped. Alisa sat at the dining table, her fingers curled gently around a warm cup of tea, as if trying to warm her own hands.
She looked up and smiled—the kind of smile that feels like home.
"I made lemon poppy seed today," she said, gesturing to the delicate cake on the plate. "It's new."
"You didn't sleep," I said quietly.
She blinked slowly once, then tilted her head.
"You were practicing piano. At sunrise."
She didn't answer right away, only sipped her tea and set it down carefully. "You notice more than I expect sometimes."
I shrugged. "You always play when something's bothering you."
Her eyes widened just slightly.
Then: "You're imagining things, Noah."
Maybe I was.
Or maybe she just didn't want to talk about it.
The Walk to School
The path through the Everhart woods was perfectly manicured—a narrow ribbon of crushed white stone winding beneath whispering trees. Alisa always walked a few steps ahead of me, never behind.
She held a white umbrella, though the sky was clear. "For the sun," she said softly.
We didn't talk much. That morning silence felt heavy—like a conversation happening beneath the quiet that I couldn't quite hear.
At the gate, the driver waited as usual.
Kaede was already there.
She waved, smiling like the last few days hadn't been strange.
"Hey, Noah!"
Alisa's hand brushed my sleeve, light as a feather.
"Be careful," she whispered.
I turned, confused.
"Of what?"
But she was already smiling again.
"Your tie's crooked."
Lunch Hour
Kaede was more talkative than usual, carrying extra snacks and sharing most of them with me, even though I hadn't asked.
"This is homemade?" I unwrapped one of the onigiri.
She nodded proudly. "Took forever, but worth it."
It was good. Really good.
Halfway through lunch, her phone began acting strange. Notifications failed to load, messages stalled. Her cheerful expression slipped slowly into distraction.
"That's weird," she muttered. "I've got four bars but it's like my apps are choking."
"Could be the school's firewall," I suggested, though I wasn't sure.
I checked my own phone.
Everything worked fine.
After School
When I got home, chamomile tea was waiting.
Alisa sat on the windowsill of my room, legs tucked beneath her like a porcelain doll come to life.
"How was Kaede?" she asked, voice calm.
I blinked. "You knew I was with her?"
She tilted her head. "You weren't hiding it."
I sat at my desk. The tea was warm, lightly sweet—the way I liked it.
"She brought me lunch," I said.
Alisa didn't answer immediately. Her gaze drifted toward the fading light outside the window.
"Was it good?"
I hesitated. "Yeah. I think she made it herself."
Her silence felt cold.
"I think she likes you," Alisa said quietly.
I laughed. "She's just being nice."
"I'm nice."
"That's different."
Her eyes sharpened slightly.
"Why?"
"I don't know. It just is."
That Night
Sleep didn't come easy.
Nothing was wrong—not really. No noises, no bad dreams. Just the same strange pressure, like the walls were watching me.
I thought about Kaede's smile. The way her phone stopped working. The way Alisa's voice had gone quiet when I mentioned the lunch.
I turned over.
My curtains were closed.
I hadn't done that.
Eventually, sleep claimed me.
Somewhere Else
Miles away, in a softly lit apartment, Kaede stared at her frozen laptop screen.
The essay she'd spent four hours writing was gone.
All her backups corrupted.
Cloud access locked.
Her hands trembled.
She didn't understand what was happening.
Far beneath the Everhart estate, in a hidden server room, Alisa watched Kaede's emotional state register in pale blue graphs.
She didn't smile.
She didn't blink.
Her fingers tapped a silent rhythm on the touchpad—gentle, deliberate.
Noah had liked the onigiri.
That was okay.
She would let Kaede try again.
Once.
[End Chapter Three]