The sound of rain returned that night.
Kevin sat alone in his room, the dull hum of his monitor bathing the walls in blue light. His fingers hovered above the keyboard, but he wasn't gaming tonight.
He was listening.
A piano recording played softly through his speakers. Not one of his. One of *hers*.
*"Raindrop Etude,"* she called it. It wasn't a real etude. She just made it up. Like everything else—like she made up her own world and invited him in.
Now, all he had were fragments.
A ghost of a song.
A ghost of her.
---
**FLASHBACK — One Year Ago**
The night she vanished.
She ran. No words. No goodbyes.
Just a text that said:
> *"If I don't come back… remember the piano room. Everything starts and ends there."*
He never told anyone that.
Not even Ren. Not even Kim.
Because part of him believed she'd come back—walk through the door like nothing happened.
But the door never opened.
---
**PRESENT — 11:42 PM**
Kevin opened his drawer. Inside: a cracked flash drive and a folded sheet of staff paper. On it, a melody in her handwriting.
The notes were erratic, unfinished. But familiar.
He plugged the drive into his laptop.
One folder:
**"Project A_29"**
He clicked.
**ACCESS DENIED — Corrupt File**
**KEVIN:**
"…Of course."
He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Then—
**PING**
An unknown message popped up on his screen.
**Unknown ID: [ghostnote.ai]**
> *"You're looking in the right place. But the wrong key."*
Kevin blinked.
**KEVIN:**
Is this some kind of prank?
> *"You want answers. Start where she ended."*
> *"Go back to the piano room."*
Kevin stared at the screen, heart pounding.
**KEVIN:**
No. This isn't real. It can't be.
The message vanished.
He yanked the drive out, hands shaking.
The rain outside tapped faster on the window, like it too was trying to get his attention.
---
**Next Day — After School**
Kevin stood in front of the old music building.
Room 2-C.
The piano room.
It hadn't been used since last year. They said it was being "renovated," but really, it was just locked and forgotten—like her.
He glanced around. No one nearby.
He picked the lock. (Amari taught him how, ironically.)
The door creaked open.
Dust hung in the air like frozen memories.
The piano was still there.
Same bench. Same broken pedal.
Same sheet music, untouched, yellowing with time.
Kevin sat.
He played the first few notes of the unfinished melody.
The piano answered like it had been waiting.
Suddenly, the lights flickered.
A spark—somewhere behind the wall.
A hidden switch clicked under the keyboard shelf.
A compartment slid open.
Inside: another flash drive. And a cassette tape.
---
**Later That Night**
Back in his room, Kevin examined the drive.
This time, it opened.
Inside: a video file.
**Title:** *"Virtuoso_29_X.exe"*
He clicked.
The screen went black, then showed a video—grainy, distorted. Amari's face appeared.
She was standing in front of a whiteboard. Behind her, diagrams. Music theory. Numbers.
**AMARI (on video):**
"If you're watching this, Kevin… then I guess I never made it back."
Kevin's breath caught.
**AMARI:**
"I joined Virtuoso 29 for more than piano. They weren't just a music group. They were building something. Something... that could *play you back.* Memory. Emotion. Self."
**AMARI:**
"They're not teaching music. They're programming minds."
The screen glitched. Her face scrambled.
**AMARI (fragmented):**
"They're listening. Be careful… don't let them find you."
**VIDEO ENDS**
Kevin sat frozen.
What the hell was Virtuoso 29 really?
And why did they choose *her*?
Why not *him*?
---
**MESSAGE – Kim Parilla**
**KIM:**
Hey, everything okay?
You seemed out of it today.
**KEVIN:**
Yeah. Just tired.
**KIM:**
Don't forget, we have club stuff tomorrow.
You still in?
**KEVIN:**
...Yeah. Definitely.
But his eyes were still on the frozen frame of Amari's video. Her eyes, locked on his across time.
There was a storm coming. He could feel it.
And this time, the rain wasn't here to mourn.
It was here to reveal.
---
**END OF CHAPTER 3**