CHAPTER 35: THE DROWNING AND THE VISION

[Evelina’s POV—Somewhere]

"...Miss... Open your... eyes."

Rowan’s voice drifted through the dark—muffled, bending like sound under deep water.

I tried to grasp it—but my fingers slipped through the echo.

My lungs burned. My vision dimmed. And then—silence.

The river faded. The cold vanished. And a different world unfolded.

Not Evelina’s.

Mine.

Reina Tanaka’s.

A classroom materialized through fog—sunlight filtering through dusty windows, desks arranged in uneven rows, and students whispering like gnats.

There I was.

Plain uniform. Round glasses slipping. Back hunched, trying to shrink into invisibility. Hands cold from gripping my notebook too tightly.

I watched myself... the way someone watches a stranger.

"Hey," a boy laughed from across the room. "Seriously—doesn’t she look like a ghost? Being near her feels cursed."

More laughter erupted.

A girl leaned over my desk, wrinkling her nose.

"Banana milk again? Ew. Why do you drink that? That’s so creepy."

Banana Milk? But I don’t drink banana milk. I hated banana milk.

The old me stared at the carton quietly... confused. Lonely. Unseen.

"Why..." dream-me stared coldly to the girl taking the banana milk and sipping, "... Just mind your own business."

Why am I drinking when I hated it? A memory I never cared about. Never thought about it. Yet here it was—crystal clear.

A detail I never noticed before—someone had placed the banana milk there.

"Gosh... Being around her feels like we’re in a cemetery." Laughter burst like a slap.

Sharp. Cruel. Familiar.

Reina—the old me—glanced down at the banana milk. Her fingers trembled lightly around the carton.

Not fear.

Not embarrassment.

Just...confusion.

Why would anyone give something to me?

No one ever did. And why am I seeing this? Why now? Why this memory—the one I never cared to remember?

The fog thickened—and then—"MISS!!!"

A voice crashed like thunder. Loud. Urgent. Furious. The classroom shattered like glass.

My eyes flew open—and my lungs convulsed.

COUGH—COUGH—!!

Water burst from my throat, and air stabbed into my lungs like fire as the real world slammed back into me.

Rowan’s face hovered above mine—drenched, shadowed, breath tearing in and out of his lungs like he had run through hell itself.

His eyes—wide.

Wild. Raw with something I had never seen on him.

Fear.

For me.

"Miss..." he breathed, voice cracking around the edges, "you’re alive..."

Before I could even lift a hand, he pulled me into him.

His arms wrapped around me—tight, unrestrained, desperate—his chest crushing against mine in a way Rowan Arcturus never allowed himself.

"Thank god..." he whispered into my soaked hair, words trembling, "Thank god you’re safe. I thought—"

His voice faltered—a tremor breaking through his discipline. "I thought I would lose you."

My face slumped against his cold, drenched chest. His heartbeat slammed against my ear—fast, violent, and frantic. Too frantic.

My breathing stuttered, lungs burning, still trying to relearn the concept of air.

I swallowed... And then—a strange scent hit me.

Mint.

Sharp. Clean. Fresh.

But not from the river.

From me.

My eyes twitched. I lifted my head slowly—very, very slowly—and stared up at him.

"Rowan...?"

His arms tightened around me immediately—protective, possessive, as if the mere act of me whispering his name meant I might slip away again.

"Yes, Miss?" His voice was deep, shaken, and still heavy with leftover terror.

I stared at him.

"Rowan," I repeated, my tone colder, slower, and dangerously clear.

His gaze sharpened—worried again. "Are you hurt?"

"No," I said. "But I have a question."

He straightened slightly, still holding me, still too close. "What is it, Miss?"

I inhaled sharply.

And asked—"DID. YOU. KISS. ME?!!!"

Rowan froze. Completely. The world froze with him. Silence slammed down around us like a dropped coffin lid.

His arms were still around me. His pupils blew wide. A vein ticked in his jaw. Even the river behind us seemed to stop flowing. He didn’t answer. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t blink.

Just stared.

Stunned.

Caught.

And I—still coughing, still drenched, still tasting mint and humiliation—jabbed a finger against his soaked chest and demanded:

"ROWAN ARCTURUS—YOU KISSED ME, DIDN’T YOU?!"

His throat worked once.

Then—very slowly—very painfully—he exhaled. "...It was CPR, Miss."

"THAT DOES NOT CHANGE THE FACT YOU KISSED ME!"

His ears reddened—just a little. Barely. Almost invisible.

But I saw it.

His jaw tightened. His eyes flickered away for the first time since I’d woken. And then—

"Pfft—"

A laugh cracked out of me before I could stop it. A few coughs. Then an uncontrollable—"Ha...ha... haha—oh god, Rowan, so funny you are—"

Rowan blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

He looked truly, utterly confused. And offended. And still holding me like I was made of spun glass.

"I thought," he said slowly, stiffly, "you would punish me."

I pushed myself upright—and immediately stumbled. He was already there, hand gripping my arm, steadying me before gravity could even think about embarrassing me again.

I brushed off my soaked hair and said, "Rowan, I know the difference between CPR and a kiss."

His hand froze.

I smirked up at him. "I was just pulling your leg."

A long, long exhale left him—like the air had been trapped inside his lungs for minutes.

He didn’t smile. But something in his shoulders loosened. I looked around, arms folded tightly against the cold.

"...So where exactly are we?"

Rowan scanned the foggy riverside, expression shifting into that professional stillness again.

"Somewhere off the highway," he said. "More forest than civilization."

I nodded. "Great. Dumped in the wilderness after almost drowning. Exactly how I wanted my afternoon to go."

He didn’t laugh—but his gaze softened. A fraction. He stepped closer, arm slipping firmly around my waist—steady, protective, instinctive.

"Miss," he said quietly, "we need to warm you. Your body is shaking."

I blinked. Looked down.

... My body was shaking.

He held me a little tighter, guiding me gently forward.

"Let’s find shelter first," he murmured, voice low and steady. "Then we’ll figure out a way back."

His grip was firm—solid—grounding me as if I could vanish with the next gust of wind. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

"...Alright," I whispered. "Lead the way."

And together—his arm around my waist, my fingers curled against his shirt for balance—we stepped into the forest shadows.

The ground squelched beneath our feet. Fog curled low. Branches whispered overhead like a thousand secrets trying to reach my ears.

And you must be wondering...

Why is there a forest under the bridge?

Well—this is a game. Anything can appear where the developers feel dramatic. But even that wasn’t what bothered me.

Something far, far stranger gnawed at my mind.

No one knew I was meeting Theo Vinter today.

Not officially.Not publicly.Not even my useless siblings.

So who tracked me?

Who sent twelve trained killers to surround my car? Who planned an attack organized enough to herd us like prey?

My jaw tightened.

This wasn’t Evelina’s usual enemy.

They would’ve sent one assassin—a sniper. A blade in a hallway. A quiet, clean death.

Not a military-style ambush.

Not men who moved like the assassins from Casino One.

No...This was different. This was closer. The forest felt colder as the truth pressed down on me.

So, who was it?

Theo Vinter?No—if he wanted me dead, he wouldn’t miss.

Kael Valtore and ... the Hartgraves.

Yes.

Of all possibilities—

They were the ones who had the most to gain from my silence, my disappearance, and my death.

A slow, cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"So that’s how it is," I murmured.

Rowan turned his head slightly toward me, sensing the shift in my aura, but he said nothing.

And I walked deeper into the forest—dripping, bruised, soaked in cold river water—with a heart colder than the night itself.

One thing was now brutally clear: Someone close to me wants me dead.

And they almost succeeded.

Theo Vinter. Kael Valtore. And the Hartgrave family...