~OLIVER'S POV~
"Hello, is this Miss Olivia Packer?" A male voice echoed from the end of the line.
Who could this be? And how did he know my full name? The number wasn't saved either.
I pondered on my thoughts when the voice spoke again.
"Miss Oliver Packer?"
I hissed, I wasn't expecting a call from a total stranger. I had been lying awake staring at the ceiling as I awaited Leo's call. His last message replaying in my head; "Don't worry about me. I'll fix it."
When my phone buzzed, my heart leapt, but his name didn't flash, but the area code was Crescent's. For one reckless second, I thought it was him, only for a man's voice to come through, flat, practiced.
"Miss Olivia Parker?" He called again.
"Yes?" I whispered.
"This is Detective Rowe from the Crescent University police department. I'm sorry to inform you that your boyfriend, Leo Tantan, was found dead earlier this evening. It appears to be a suicide."
My throat closed. "What?"
"I understand this is difficult. He was found near the bell tower…"
"No." The word escaped my mouth as I cut him short. "You're wrong. Leo would never…he wouldn't do that!"
"Miss Parker—"
But I hung up. My hand trembled so violently the phone slipped, hitting the ground with a loud thud.
My mother's door opened. "Olivia?" She appeared in the hallway, her robe cinched tight. "What's going on?"
I couldn't speak. My chest hurt, every breath too sharp.
"Olivia?" She crossed the room quickly, grabbing my shoulders. "What is it?"
I stared at her, numb. "He's gone."
"Who?"
"Leo." My voice cracked. "They said h-h-he jumped. From the bell t-tower."
Her eyes widened. "Oh, my God." She pulled me into her arms, but I didn't feel it. My skin had gone cold, like all my warmth had leaked out into the night.
"It's not true," I muttered against her shoulder. "He wouldn't. He promised me we'd go to see his university together this weekend.He said he just needed to finish something first."
She stroked my hair. "Sweetheart, people, sometimes we don't know what's happening inside their heads. You have to accept…"
"Don't say that." I pulled away. "You didn't know him like I did."
Her sigh was soft but heavy. "Olivia, please. Let it go. There's nothing you can do now."
I wanted to scream. Let it go? Leo wasn't a stranger who'd given up, he was brilliant, alive, full of plans. He wanted to change the world. He wanted us.
I picked my phone from the ground.
I tried dialing Leo's number because I couldn't believe it.
But then I noticed Missed calls, one, two and then a voicemail timestamped just an hour before the detective's call.
My pulse thundered.
Something doesn't add up!
"Olivia, don't," Mom warned, but I already hit play.
Leo's voice filled the silence. Breathless. Frantic.
"Olivia—don't come here. They found out."
The line cut.
I froze.
They found out.
Who was they? Found out What?
"Olivia?" My mother's hand was on my arm.
I stepped back, shaking my head. "No. Something's wrong. He was scared."
"Olivia—"
"I'm going there," I said.
"Absolutely not." Her tone hardened. "You are not going to that place. The police have it under control."
"The police thinks it's suicide."
"Then let them." She folded her arms. "You need to rest. You're in shock."
I almost laughed. Rest. As if closing my eyes would make it real. "He sent me a message, Mom. He was afraid. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"Sometimes fear doesn't make sense when someone's unstable—"
"Leo wasn't unstable!" I shouted. The words bounced off the walls, sharp and ugly.
Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "Lower your voice."
I didn't. "You always wanted to believe the easy version of everything. But I know him. He didn't jump mum, I need you to believe me."
"Olivia, please," she whispered. "You're hurting. I can't lose you too."
For a long moment, we just stared at each other. The silence between us felt like a chasm.
Then the doorbell rang.
I blinked. "At this hour?"
Mom frowned. "Stay here."
But I followed her to the door anyway. A courier stood outside, rain dripping off his cap. "Delivery for Olivia Parker," he said.
I stepped forward. "That's me."
He handed me a small, battered package wrapped in brown paper. The handwriting across the label stopped my breath, Leo's.
"It was posted from Crescent City yesterday," the man added, then turned and disappeared into the rain.
"Yesterday!" I asked but the courier didn't reply and left.
Mom looked uneasy. "Maybe you shouldn't—"
But I was already tearing it open. Inside was a small leather journal, edges frayed, cover smeared with faint fingerprints. I recognized it immediately, it was Leo's private journal. The one he never let anyone touch.
My hands trembled as I flipped through the pages. His handwriting looped across them, notes, sketches, thoughts. The last few pages were torn out violently, leaving jagged stubs.
"What is it?" Mom asked softly.
"He mailed this to me," I whispered. "The before he died."
At the inside cover, a smear of ink caught my eye. Not part of his usual neat script—these letters were hurried, almost desperate:
RIB—JN.
"What does that mean?" Mom asked.
I stared at it, my mind spinning. "I don't know."
She touched my arm again. "Sweetheart, please. Don't torture yourself. Sometimes there aren't answers."
But I couldn't look away from those letters. RIB—JN.
Leo had mailed this before he died. Whatever it meant, it was a message.
I whispered the words under my breath, tasting them like a riddle. "RIB… JN."
Mom's voice came faintly through the haze. "Olivia, promise me you won't let this consume you."
I looked up at her. "I can't promise that."
Her shoulders sagged. "Come on baby, don't drown in grief."
She left the room to get the door as another knock was heard.
I turned the journal over in my hands, feeling its weight. The faint scent of his cologne clung to the pages.
He had wanted me to find this. He had wanted me to know.
Maybe the police could call it suicide.
Maybe my mother could call it grief.
But I knew the truth.
Leo hadn't fallen.
He wouldn't commit suicide.
And whoever had done it, whatever "they" had found out, was still out there.
I closed the journal, the letters RIB—JN burned into my mind like a scar.
The night outside pressed against the windows, heavy and watching. I didn't know it then, but that was the moment everything changed, the night love turned to vengeance, and Crescent University became my battlefield.
I swore within myself, I would find his murder.