Chapter 4. All this is too unreasonable

(Rhea's POV)

I stayed still, staring at the phone screen that was still lit. The message was short, but it felt heavy.

“We’re not done yet, Miss Hale.”

I reread it over and over again, as if hoping the meaning would change. But it didn’t. The words stuck in my head like paint that hadn’t dried yet—fragile, but lingering.

“What does he even mean...?”

My hands trembled as I slipped my phone into my bag. The air inside the gallery hall felt colder than before, or maybe it was just my body being overly sensitive to everything tonight. I glanced back at the painting of the Moon. Those golden eyes... that shimmer I’d seen more than once, still danced in my mind, like it was alive behind layers of paint and time.

“Lina, what do you think... about that moon painting?” I asked without taking my eyes off it.

Lina turned to look at the painting too. “It’s beautiful. Like a surrealist piece with a mysterious atmosphere. The loneliness in it feels so strong. Like you’re standing alone in a fog.”

I nodded in agreement. “This painting feels like a nightmare, but a beautiful one,” I added.

“Rhea,” Lina called.

I turned quickly. “Hmm?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look really pale.”

I nodded. “I’m just tired. You know how fast my energy drains when I’m in crowded places too long.”

Lina gave me a sympathetic look and rubbed my arm. “Then go home. Get some rest early. I’ll take care of everything here.”

I nodded. “Thank you so much, Lina, for understanding.”

“It’s nothing.”

I got up right away. “I’ll stop by to see Mrs. Elka first to get permission to leave. Thanks again, Lina.”

“Anytime, Rhea. Be careful on your way home. Call me if anything happens.”

I tried to smile to reassure her, even though deep down, I wasn’t sure myself.

There was something heavy sitting on my chest, and I wasn’t even sure I could explain it. Not to anyone. Not even to myself.

***

The sky over Elaria was overcast that night. Streetlights reflected off the asphalt, still damp from the afternoon rain. The scent of wet earth filled the air, blending with the chill that nipped at my fingertips.

I walked quickly toward my car parked behind the gallery building. My shoes made soft tapping sounds on the pavement, but still... the silence of the night felt like it was creeping too deep into my skin. Like it was holding something in.

I opened the car door and got in. Just as I set my bag down on the passenger seat, my phone vibrated again.

A second message.

[No Name]

No Name: I know this is confusing. But I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.

—K

I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then glanced at the rearview mirror. No one was there. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. Again.

My palms were sweaty, despite the cold air.

With hesitant fingers, I typed a reply.

Me: What is it you actually want?

The reply came fast. Way too fast. Like he had been waiting for me.

[No Name]

No Name: Just to talk. That’s all. I can meet you tomorrow—wherever you choose—before I get busy again with match schedules.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second.

Even without meeting him, just getting a message from him already made my body tense—like a violin string pulled too tight.

“Why do I react like this around this guy? Is it because he’s famous? Or... is it something else that people don’t know?”

It didn’t feel like it was about fame. Not about the fact that he’s Kaelan Viero. Maybe it was about something I couldn’t see—something invisible, but deeply felt. Like a soft current of electricity running just beneath my skin.

I decided not to reply just yet.

Today had been too long. I needed sleep.

Or at least... I needed to try to sleep.

***

But of course, I didn’t sleep tonight. Not even close.

I just lay there, staring at the ceiling of my apartment, listening to the sound of the rain that had started again, washing over the windows in a steady rhythm. Usually, the sound of rain calms me. But not tonight.

My thoughts kept racing—about Kaelan, about that painting, about the strange scent that felt oddly... familiar. About those golden eyes. About that brief touch in the stadium hallway. About the way he looked at me like I was some kind of puzzle he had to solve—and I didn’t even know I was a puzzle.

I turned on the small bedside lamp and sat up. My chest felt tight. Not from fear. But from confusion. Because... this irrational feeling was getting harder and harder to shake.

I reached over to the table and picked up the piece of paper I’d found earlier that day, tucked behind the canvas of the Moon painting. Bits of dried paint still clung to its edges. The paper was blank—almost. But if you looked closely, there were faint markings... like a symbol. Like a carving, but not ink.

I’d tried searching for the shape in the restoration database. Nothing came up. I even checked through books of ancient symbols and artistic markings. Nothing. That symbol wasn’t in any catalog I’d studied for years.

I gently ran my finger over it. And the moment my skin touched the surface, that pulsing ache in my head came back. Soft but piercing. Just like the first time I touched the painting.

There’s something in that painting. Something no art theory or artifact history can explain.

And Kaelan... somehow, he’s connected to it.

I know something in me has changed.

And Kaelan Viero... somehow, he’s part of that change.

I was sure of it.

Until another message suddenly popped up on my phone.

I opened it right away. And again—it was from Kaelan.

[No Name]

No Name: Don’t look into that painting on your own unless you’re ready to dive much deeper.

I froze.

My eyes stayed fixed on the message. My fingers holding the phone began to tighten.

How does he know?

How does he know I’m looking into something?

How could he possibly know about the paper?

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I hadn’t told anyone about this. Not Lina. Not Kira. No one saw me slip that paper into my notebook. No one knew... unless someone already knew.

My hands began to shake. I put the phone down on the table and stared at my own reflection in the window glass.

Outside, the rain started falling harder, like it was trying to wash away all sound from the world.

But inside, my mind was loud.

“What do you mean, Kaelan? Are you warning me? Or... threatening me?” I whispered.

I didn’t know whether to feel scared or trust him. But one thing I did know—I couldn’t pretend like nothing was happening anymore.

That object, that painting, and that man... I was absolutely certain they were all connected, forming a thread that was slowly wrapping itself around me.

***