All Chapters of The Stranger Hidden in My Sketchbook: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

A loose sheet of paper slipped from beneath a stack of sketchbooks. Falling silently onto the floor. Arsen frowned. Instinctively bending down. Picking it up. And freezing. Completely. Because the sketch wasn't clothing. It wasn't geometry. It wasn't a fashion concept. It wasn't a design blueprint. It was a face. His face. Arsen stared. The drawing looked unfinished. Yet remarkably detailed. His eyes. His jawline. His expression. Every detail captured with impossible familiarity. The artist clearly knew the subject. Very well. Too well. Slowly, Arsen turned the page. And discovered notes. Small observations. Tiny handwritten details. Dark navy tie. Silver watch today. Looks tired. Didn't smile during meeting. Hair slightly longer than last month. Silence filled the office. Arsen's heartbeat slowed. Then accelerated. Then slowed again. Because suddenly... Several years of strange moments felt different. The star

Lyra began visiting Carl's classroom more often after the incident with the sketchbook. At first, it was only once every few days. She would stop by during lunch break, lean against the classroom door, and ask what he was drawing. The sight alone was enough to shock half the students in the room. Lyra Avelline was one of the most admired students in the school. She was the Student Council President, popular among teachers and students alike, intelligent, beautiful, and somehow always busy. No one understood why she kept talking to Carl Hart. Carl himself didn't understand it either. The bullying never completely disappeared, but it became much less frequent after Lyra publicly defended him. The students who had torn his sketchbook now avoided trouble whenever she was nearby. Some of them even pretended to be friendly whenever the Student Council President appeared. Carl knew they were only afraid of Lyra. Still, it was enough. For the first time since entering junior hig

Lyra woke up feeling as though she had barely slept. The sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her penthouse felt unusually harsh. Her head throbbed faintly. Every muscle in her body seemed exhausted from the previous night's celebration. The launch event. The interviews. The livestreams. The endless congratulations. The birthday surprise. The fireworks. The game release. Everything blurred together into one overwhelming memory. She buried her face into a pillow and groaned. For a moment, she considered canceling every meeting scheduled for the next month. Then reality reminded her she owned a company. Unfortunately. An hour later, Lyra arrived at her office. The sight that greeted her nearly made her turn around and leave. Gift boxes. Everywhere. Luxury brands. Designer brands. Flowers. Letters. Jewelry. Collector's items. Corporate gifts. The room looked more like a warehouse than an office. Lyra stared at the mountain of presents and imm

The meeting finally ended just before sunset. For most people inside Vale Group, it had been a fantastic day. New partnerships. New expansion plans. New business opportunities. The managers had looked excited. The executives had looked excited. Even the usually serious finance department seemed unusually optimistic. Yet Lyra felt exhausted. Not physically. Mentally. The entire three-hour meeting had felt like a battle against her own thoughts. As soon as she and Clara left the building, Clara immediately hooked her arm through Lyra's. "We're getting coffee." Lyra sighed. "I already had three." "Then you'll have four." "That's not healthy." "Neither is whatever you've been doing lately." Lyra didn't argue. Clara had known her long enough to recognize when something was wrong. Fifteen minutes later they settled into a quiet coffee shop several blocks away from Vale Group headquarters. The warm atmosphere immediately felt comforting. Outside, sum

The moment the final interview ended, Lyra realized she had made a terrible mistake. Not with the collection. Not with the colors. Not with the designs. With leaving the venue alone. The success of Paradise Algorithm had exploded beyond expectations. Fashion reporters. Lifestyle magazines. Luxury brands. Entertainment media. Influencers. Streamers. Photographers. Everyone wanted a piece of Lyra Avelline. Everyone wanted a statement. A photo. An interview. A comment. A reaction. Something. Anything. The moment she exited the backstage area, dozens of cameras immediately turned toward her. "Miss Avelline!" "What inspired the hidden compartments?" "Is there a sequel collection?" "Are you collaborating with Ethan Vale again?" "Can you comment on the rumors?" "Miss Avelline!" "Miss Avelline!" "One photo!" "One question!" The crowd surged forward. Security attempted to create space. Failed. More reporters appeared. More cameras. More microphones. Flashes