Chương 2: DEATH NOTE

Olivia, or Liv, as everyone called her, skipped down her porch steps, the vibrant colors of her sundress a stark contrast to the growing unease in her heart. She was on her way to Ethan's house, just next door. A nagging feeling had been gnawing at her all afternoon, ever since her conversation with Chloe. Earlier, she'd been gossiping with Chloe on phone, recounting her latest frustrations with some schoolmates.

"And honestly, Ethan's been so mopey lately," Liv had confessed, tossing her hair.

"Like, I just told him I'd hang out with him to kill time when you guys were busy." Chloe, usually quick with a witty retort, had gone quiet.

"Liv," she'd said, her voice unusually serious, "did you even hear yourself?

'Kill time'? That's incredibly offensive. Ethan genuinely values you, and to say something like that…" Liv had immediately bristled, defensive.

"No, no, you're misunderstanding! I didn't mean it in a bad way at all. He's actually a really fun person to be around, truly. Otherwise, we wouldn't even be friends, right? It's just… well, it was supposed to be our big shopping trip for the school dance, remember? But you and the other girls got held up, so I was just going to hang out with him as usual while I waited for them. That's all I meant." She'd tried to justify it, to make Chloe see her innocent intent, but Chloe's concerned expression hadn't wavered.

"Still," Chloe had insisted gently, "words have power, Liv. Especially with someone like Ethan." Chloe's words had hit Liv harder than she cared to admit. Ethan, always there, always listening, always somehow understanding even her most trivial complaints. She'd dismissed his quiet intensity, his sometimes-morbid comments, as just "Ethan being Ethan." But what if it was more? What if he really was hurting. He hadn't really been the same since that incident in middle school.

Had her flippant remark simply twisted the knife? The thought sent a cold shiver down her spine. A sudden, vivid memory flashed in her mind: Ethan, on the Ravenwood Bridge, his eyes disturbingly fixed on the dark water, murmuring about what death by drowning might feel like. He'd even sounded strangely calm, almost fascinated. She'd joked then, called him "no fun," but now, the image was chillingly stark.

"Mrs. Aquah!" Liv called out as she stepped into the familiar kitchen, the comforting scent of Sarah Aquah's cooking filling the air.

"Hi, Mrs. Aquah! Is Ethan home?" Sarah turned from the stove, a warm smile on her face.

"Liv, dear! Yes, he's around somewhere. David's in the lounge."

"Great!" Liv chirped, trying to sound normal, but her heart was thudding. She walked past David Aquah, who offered a distracted nod from the sofa, and headed straight for Ethan's room. The door was slightly ajar, but as she pushed it open, a wave of cold hit her. The room was darker than usual, the curtains drawn, a heavy, unsettling quiet clinging to the air. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Ethan?" she called out, her voice barely a whisper. No answer. Her eyes scanned the room, landing on the bed. There, stark against the pillow, was a folded piece of paper. Her breath caught. It was a death note. Liv's heart hammered against her ribs as she stared at the note. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the paper. The stark words leaped out at her, each one a cold, cruel confirmation of her worst fears:"I can't do this anymore. I never asked for this life. There's nothing here for me. Goodbye."

Her eyes widened in horror, the blood draining from her face. No. This couldn't be happening. Not Ethan. Not her Ethan. The memory of his distant gaze on the bridge, the unsettling calmness in his voice as he spoke of drowning, crashed over her with the force of a tidal wave.

"Is it peaceful?" he'd asked. He hadn't been dramatic; he'd been serious. And she, in her thoughtlessness, had dismissed him, had called him "no fun." A wave of nauseating guilt washed over her, making her dizzy. Her gaze darted frantically around the dim room, landing on the open window. A chill wind, no longer just a breeze, seemed to whisper his name, carrying with it a terrifying premonition. He'd left through here. He had to have.

Without another thought, Liv spun around and sprinted out of the room, her sandals slapping against the wooden floor.

"Mrs. Aquah! Mr. Aquah!" she screamed, her voice raw with panic. Her shout tore through the quiet hum of the house, instantly silencing the sports game in the lounge and the sizzle of cooking in the kitchen. David Aquah, his brow furrowed in confusion, rose from his armchair just as Sarah Aquah, spatula still in hand, rushed out of the kitchen.

"Liv? What on earth…?" Sarah began, but the terror etched on Liv's face cut her off.

"It's Ethan! He's… he's gone!" Liv gasped, clutching the crumpled suicide note, her hand shaking so violently she could barely hold it steady.

"He left this! And his window's open! He went to the bridge, he said… he said he wondered if it was peaceful!" The color drained from Sarah's face. David's eyes widened in dawning horror. The cheerful sounds of home vanished, replaced by a deafening silence broken only by Liv's ragged breaths and the frantic pounding of their own hearts. Without a word, David snatched his car keys from the hook by the door. Sarah dropped the spatula, her hands flying to her mouth in a silent scream.

"The Ravenwood Bridge!" Liv cried, pointing vaguely in the direction.

"He always talked about it!" In a blur of desperate motion, the three of them burst out of the house, abandoning dinner, abandoning everything, united by a single, terrifying goal: to reach Ethan before it was too late. The race against time had begun.