Ethan Barnes was waiting outside—one minute, two minutes, three minutes... Ti passed, and Celeste Linden still hadn’t co out.
At first, there was the sound of rushing water from inside, but gradually, it beca silent.
There was no sound at all, silence that was unsettling.
Ethan Barnes keenly sensed sothing was wrong; in fact, thinking back, her behavior had been unusual all evening.
He couldn’t pinpoint her abnormality; logically, he had crushed a belief and strength she had always held within her heart, she should have bowed to fate.
Ethan quickly stood up and went to the bathroom door. His long, strong joints knocked sharply on the door, making a thud-thud sound. "Celeste, have you finished?"
There was no sound inside, no one answered him.
Ethan’s heart slowly sank; he frowned, "Celeste, open the door, or I’ll co in directly."
Still, there was no sound inside.
Ethan put his hand on the door handle; the door had been locked from the inside.
"Celeste!" Ethan pursed his lips, and in the next mont, he suddenly lifted his long leg and kicked the door.
Boom.
The bathroom door flew open.
Ethan instantly slled a stench of blood.
He was naturally sensitive to the sll of blood; years ago, when his mother had left, he had pushed open a door and slled the sa stench of blood.
He then felt sothing sticky underfoot, and when he looked down, a stream of fresh blood like a small creek had already flowed to his feet.
Ethan’s pupils kept contracting and expanding as he walked in; there lay Celeste Linden in the bathtub, the water had engulfed her body completely. She was still wearing that white dress, the hem floating elegantly in the water like a beautiful ink painting.
She lay quietly with her eyes closed, her slender right hand hung powerlessly outside the bathtub, a deep cut was vividly visible on her wrist, with fresh blood dripping down.
Ethan realized that she had slit her wrist in a suicide attempt.
He was stunned in place, as all his mories seed to return to several years ago, watching his mother lying in a pool of blood, her bleeding seemingly never-ending.
Now, his mother’s image intertwined with Celeste Linden’s, causing Ethan to feel pain, an unbearable headache.
Celeste had left a note on the washstand.
Ethan picked up the note, in her graceful handwriting it read—did your mother pass away like this?
Ethan stared at these brief words over and over, until his eyes turned red, fierce with rage.
He understood now, Celeste Linden had never bowed to fate; she chose to fight against it one last ti in this way.
She also had never forgiven those who had hurt her, so she exacted a twisted revenge on him this way.
He should have known, she was strong-willed, soft outside and tough inside.
He should have realized earlier—her deliberate questioning about his mother was ant to hurt him, reconstruct the scene from years ago, expose his bleeding scars, driving him mad while alive.
Ethan curled his fingers, crumpling the note into a ball and disposing of it in the trash, then he reached out to pull Celeste Linden out of the bathtub.
Carrying her, he rushed out into the hallway and yelled, "Doctor! Doctor!"
It was nightti, the hallway quiet, his shout was deafening.
The on-duty doctor hurriedly ran out wearing a white coat, "What happened?"
Ethan handed Celeste Linden to the doctor, "Save her!"
The doctor’s face changed color, "Bicycle! Prepare for surgery quickly!"
A nurse ran over, placing Celeste onto a bicycle, as the doctor donned a mask in preparation for the operating room. A sinister voice echoed in the air, "If she can’t be saved, none of you will be spared."
The doctor froze, seeing Ethan standing in the dim light, his white shirt stained red with blood—disturbing indeed, but more frightening than the blood was his expression, his eyes bloodshot, his handso face rigid and sinister.
At this mont, Ethan perfectly exemplified the saying "fierce words few."
The cold sweat on the doctor’s forehead began to drip down.
Then, Ethan stepped forward to Celeste’s side, standing tall, looking down at the girl with closed eyes, an iciness in his gaze, he slowly said, "Celeste, perhaps before this, I would have considered letting you go, but after this, you have no chance to escape anymore. If you dare to die, I will send everyone around you down one by one to accompany you. I wonder if you would like this blood-stained funeral?"
...
Willow Crawford went on the spring outing, but because of Miles Linden, her mood was low.
Initially, she wanted to completely end things, prevent Miles from affecting her heart again, but she found it difficult, like now as she sat on the school bus absent-mindedly.
"Junior Willow! Junior Willow!" Freddy’s voice called out...
Willow quickly snapped out of it and looked at Freddy beside her. "Senior, what were you saying just now?"
Freddy looked a bit awkward. He had said so much, but Willow hadn’t been listening at all, it seed as if he had been talking to himself.
"Junior Willow, what were you thinking about? You seed absent-minded."
Willow raised her hand, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear to conceal, "Nothing."
At that mont, behind her seat, Rachel Underwood and two other girls were gossiping, "All our classmates ca on this spring outing, except one person—Miles Linden."
"Miles hasn’t co to school for several days now, he didn’t join the spring outing either. What do you think he’s been busy with?"
"It’s dating, obviously. Haven’t you noticed Hannah Alden also skipped the outing?"
Willow watched the scenery outside the window. Indeed, Miles and Hannah hadn’t co on this spring outing.
Last night at the bar, Miles chose Hannah and even booked a hotel room. They must be... enjoying a romantic rendezvous, right?
Suddenly, the school bus braked, stopping by the road.
"What’s going on, why did we stop suddenly?" a classmate asked in confusion.
The bus door opened, and two people got on.
"Oh my goodness, look everyone, Miles Linden is here!" Rachel exclaid, shocked.
Miles is here?
Willow quickly looked up and saw Miles’s sharp, handso figure; he really was there, accompanied by a smiling Zachary.
Why did he co?
In Willow’s imagination, he should still be lingering in tenderness. She didn’t expect him to appear.
"Miles, there are seats in the back, let’s sit there," Zachary said.
Miles and Zachary walked to the last row, Miles sat down and lowered the brim of his cap, ready to sleep.
Miles remained low-key, wanting to minimize his presence, but the girls were excited, whispering amongst themselves,
"Miles is here!"
"Why are you so thrilled about Miles being here, could it be... you like Miles?"
"Don’t say such things."
"I think Miles, though a bad student, is... so handso."
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