The soft melody of the piano echoed through the quiet room, each note lingering in the air like an unspoken memory.

Rudra’s fingers moved with grace, yet his mind wasn’t present. It was far away—entangled in a voice that no longer echoed back.
A voice that once hummed beside him.

Hana.

He didn’t realize how long he had been playing. The notes blurred with the ache in his chest, and time slipped by unnoticed.

Tick... tick...

His gaze shifted to the wall clock.

10:10 AM.

“Ah…” he murmured under his breath. “It’s already ten?”
He gently lifted his hands off the keys and stared at them for a second.
“How long was I lost in this melody…”

He stood up, the silence of the room replaced by the creaking of the floor beneath his steps.
Moving toward the living room, he muttered, “Maybe I should check the news…”

The television flickered to life. Rudra sank into the sofa, arms crossed loosely, eyes locked onto the screen.

BREAKING NEWS
The reporter’s tone was tense, the screen flashing red headlines.

“Early this morning, police discovered a dead man inside a house in the southern district.
Along with the body, a woman was found tied up, and a child was also present at the scene.
The child appeared to be in a fragile state, possibly undergoing treatment at home—he may be a patient.
Authorities are investigating whether this could be linked to an ongoing case.”

Rudra’s expression hardened. His eyes didn’t blink.

“The police confirmed that the emergency call came from the woman’s phone… but she was found unconscious when they arrived.
The case remains shrouded in mystery.”

“Both the woman and the child are currently being treated at AK Hospital.”

The screen returned to the anchor’s serious face, but Rudra didn’t wait any longer.

He quietly turned off the TV.

The screen went black.
Silence returned.

Rudra sat still for a moment. His eyes lingered on the blank screen.

Then, slowly, he leaned back into the sofa and exhaled.

There was no visible reaction. No panic. No frown.
Just a quiet calmness in his expression.
As if he was simply… processing.

He was normal.