My boyfriend, Ethan, is dead. They pulled his body from the river. My roommate, Jessica, said I couldn’t handle seeing him like that. Said I just… passed out. Except… When I woke up, I’d lost my memory of that entire day. The doctor called it selective amnesia. Said the shock was too much, that my mind refused to accept the reality of it. The police closed the case quickly. Just another tragic suicide, they said. My roommates keep telling me to face facts, but I can’t trust them. Not really. Because deep down, I suspect every single one of them could have been the one who killed my boyfriend. To find the truth, I started digging, piece by piece. And in the end, I uncovered the earth-shattering secret Ethan had been hiding. 1. Ethan Cole and I had been together for two years. I fell for him the second I saw him freshman year. Fell hard. I went after him relentlessly, and it didn’t take long to win him over. Nobody thought we’d last. Ethan was the golden boy, Northwood University’s campus king, always top of his class in Law School. He turned heads everywhere he went. And me? Sarah Jenkins. About as plain as my name suggests. Average looks, average grades. Even when I started chasing him, I was mostly just shooting my mouth off, trying to impress my friends. Even I was shocked when he actually chose me. After we got together, the campus forums were buzzing. People started betting pools on how long we’d last. Three days, some said. A week. The longest bet was a month. They all lost. Nobody predicted we’d make it three whole years. We went from having zero supporters to being voted the campus forum’s favorite couple. Our bond just kept getting stronger. Ethan was incredibly thoughtful, always putting me first. He loved burying his face in my neck, telling me how good I smelled, a scent I couldn’t even detect myself. He couldn’t handle spicy food; I loved it. Every time we ate out, he’d order mine extra hot, wincing but never complaining. Whenever I got mad, right or wrong, he’d apologize first, curling up against me, breathing in my scent. I hated studying. Before every final, he’d patiently tutor me. Thanks to him, I never failed a single class. We even got each other’s names tattooed on our collarbones. It was Ethan’s idea. Ethan was always so cheerful. The day before he died, he was talking about us getting married right after graduation, dreaming about our future together. I was ecstatic. He really, truly loved me. I only had one more year until I could marry him. But now… he’s dead. I just don’t believe Ethan would kill himself. I asked the cops if maybe he just accidentally drowned. They just patted my shoulder, saying lots of couples hang out down by Whisper Creek, that the safety rails are solid, inspected regularly. No way he just slipped. Based on the footprints, they said, he jumped. I don’t buy it. They just wanted an easy case closure. Ethan was murdered. I know it. I begged the police to reopen the case, pleaded with them. They just kept saying the conclusion was clear, urging me to accept it. I feel so helpless. 2 Back in the dorm, I felt hollowed out, just drifting through the days. Jessica Vance started acting weirdly nice to me, which was… strange. Jessica’s my roommate. And one of my many romantic rivals. Like me, Jessica fell for Ethan freshman year. We were basically competing from day one. Her family’s loaded. She was always trying to give Ethan expensive sneakers and stuff, but he never took anything. The moment Ethan and I got together, things got ugly between Jessica and me. I knitted Ethan a scarf once. She called it pathetic and cheap. The next day, Ethan wore it to class. Sometimes I’d get back to the dorm late, and she’d ‘accidentally’ lock me out. Even after Ethan and I had been together forever, she still openly hit on him. Never gave me the time of day unless it was a sneer. Ethan, thankfully, ignored her completely. But after he died, she started being… considerate. Hovering, bringing me food. At first, I figured she just felt bad seeing me so broken. I didn’t suspect a thing. Until I finally looked at Ethan’s phone. His passcode was my birthday. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to open it before. But the longing was too much. I logged into his messages, reading his texts to me from his perspective, laughing through tears one minute, sobbing the next. I was the only contact pinned to the top. As I backed out of our chat, I saw Jessica’s name right below mine. Something felt wrong. My finger hovered, then tapped. The messages loaded. It was Jessica, asking Ethan to meet her down by Whisper Creek. The time? Nine p.m. on the night he died. The coroner put his time of death around midnight. Jessica met him just three hours before he supposedly jumped? What did they talk about? Why didn't she say anything? My breath hitched. My hands started shaking. She never mentioned meeting him that night. Not once. Rage boiled up inside me. I stormed back into our dorm room, phone in hand, confronting her. "Why didn't you tell me you met Ethan that night?" Jessica was alone in the room. When she saw the chat log on my phone screen, the color drained from her face. Pure panic. "I… I just confessed my feelings again," she stammered, her eyes darting around, refusing to meet mine. "Just like all the other times. He turned me down flat, and I left. I swear, Sarah, I have no idea why he killed himself after that." Jessica was never this flustered around me. Usually, she was all arrogance and disdain. This guilty act proved she was hiding something. I slammed the door shut and locked it, stalking towards her. "What did you really say to him? Why did he jump? You want me to blast these messages all over the campus forum?" I backed her towards the balcony window. She looked like she was about to shatter. Suddenly, she crumpled to the floor, kneeling in front of me. "I just wanted to know more about him," she sobbed. "So… so I dug into his family background." I knew Ethan was an orphan. He never talked about his parents much. What did his family have to do with his death? Jessica continued, her voice trembling, "When he was ten, his father, Grant Cole, drowned himself. Jumped off a bridge. Then, when Ethan was sixteen, his mother, Linda, drowned too… in the bathtub at home." A chill went down my spine. Drowning? Both of them? Why that specific way? Ethan never told me his parents died like that. He was always so optimistic, so full of life. How could someone carry that kind of tragedy and still be so… sunny? It felt like Ethan had a whole secret life I knew nothing about. "After his dad died," Jessica choked out, "his mom was in a car accident. Lost the use of one leg. Then she killed herself too. I knew Ethan had it rough. I just… I wanted to help him. That night, I met him and… I offered him money. A lot of money. Said I’d give it to him regularly if he’d just… spend a few days a month with me." I almost laughed. It was pathetic. Ethan? The proud, brilliant Ethan Cole? Agreeing to be her paid companion? Impossible. Jessica pulled out a stack of photos. "He refused, obviously. Said he only loved you. I knew he did. So… I showed him these. The stuff I found out about his parents. I wanted to break him down, shatter that pride of his. He got furious when he saw them. Really angry. Then I just… left." She was crying hard now. "Sarah, I swear, I don't know why he killed himself! It wasn't my fault! Please, just let this go. Don't drag me into it." She actually looked like she was telling the truth, mostly just terrified of being implicated. My head was spinning. "Get out," I choked out, pointing to the door. "Just… get out!" Jessica scrambled to her feet, a mess, and stumbled towards the door. But just before she left, she turned back, her eyes suddenly dark and cold. "Before I left," she whispered, her voice low and chilling, "Ethan said it was a curse. Sarah, I’m warning you. Stop digging. You don't know who the curse will hit next." 3 I didn’t understand what Jessica meant by a curse. I numbly picked up the photos she’d dropped. Ethan’s bright smile stared back at me from the first few pictures, taken freshman year. I remembered exactly what he was doing in each one. Then I saw photos from his high school days, pictures I’d never seen before. I tried to piece together the boy he was before I knew him. Suddenly, I flipped to a photo of a boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Didn’t look much like Ethan. I didn’t pay much attention and flipped again. Same boy. Confused, I kept going. The next dozen photos were all of this kid, from childhood up to his teens. I looked closer. There was… maybe a flicker of Ethan in the eyes, the shape of the jaw? A wild thought started forming in my mind. Could this boy be Ethan? No way. Ethan was the campus heartthrob, classically handsome. This kid in the photos… objectively speaking, even by normal standards, he wasn’t attractive at all. Then I found another photo: the boy being held by his mother. She was stunning, a vibrant beauty with a radiant smile, but you could see one of her legs seemed… off, maybe disabled. In contrast, the boy in her arms looked miserable, practically scowling. Was this Ethan’s mother? Was this awkward, unhappy kid really him? Jessica’s words echoed in my head. The drowning deaths… the curse… I felt a wave of goosebumps. What had Ethan been hiding from me? Three years together, and suddenly, I felt like I didn’t know his past at all. The mystery of Ethan’s secrets pulled at me, but I had no leads. Life had to go on, somehow. With Ethan gone, I started to change. I began avoiding spicy food, like him. I caught myself mimicking his little habits, the way he’d run a hand through his hair. I finally started focusing on my studies, really applying myself. It wasn't as hard as I thought. If Ethan could see me now, hitting the books, he’d be so happy. I held onto Ethan’s phone like a lifeline, scrolling through his old messages, his posts. Every chat with his friends, every casual comment, radiated his love for me. Today, scrolling through his social media feed, I noticed someone strange. Their profile picture was just a single period: "." No name, just the punctuation mark. Their latest post was simple text: Third month without you. I miss you so much. A weird feeling washed over me. It felt like it was meant for Ethan. I’d never seen this profile before. Ethan hadn’t tagged them or interacted publicly. On impulse, I clicked on their profile. It was filled with posts, almost daily entries, pouring out grief and longing for someone lost. I scrolled back, further and further. Then I saw it. A photo. It was Ethan. Standing by Whisper Creek, looking out over the water. It looked like a candid shot, taken from nearby. The timestamp: September 7th, 9:48 PM. The night he died. My heart pounded. This meant someone else was there after Jessica left. I opened a direct message. Who are you? No reply. Silence. Frustrated, I went back to scrolling through their feed, desperate for clues. The feed was almost entirely about Ethan. Pictures of him on campus, in the library, laughing with friends. Some scenes felt familiar… too familiar. Scenes where I had been with him. But I wasn't in these photos. Just Ethan. It felt like this person was a stalker. Someone I probably knew. Then it hit me. I looked closer at the photos where the background was clearer. There was a common denominator in many of the pictures taken when I was also present. Someone else was often there too: my other roommate, Megan Riley. Megan came from a small rural town. She was always shy, timid, kind of faded into the background. I was pretty much the only one in the dorm who made an effort to befriend her. When Jessica used to lock me out, it was always Megan who eventually let me in. Over time, she became my closest friend in the dorm. She didn’t have many other friends, so sometimes, when Ethan and I went out, I’d invite her along. Megan was pretty in a quiet, mousy way, very introverted. Plenty of guys had asked her out over the years, but she’d always said no. I used to wonder why she never dated. Now I knew. Megan was in love with Ethan. And I’d had absolutely no idea. She must have added him using this anonymous account way back freshman year. I could tell it was her style, her quiet obsession. Ethan must have known too. Why didn’t he ever tell me? A sickening thought crept in: Was Ethan cheating on me?
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392273", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel