That evening, after dinner as usual, White returned to her room.
The pale yellow lamplight fell across the familiar collection of stuffed animals.
She sat down at her chair, her hand unconsciously resting on the mouse, ready to open a game and drive away the chaos swirling in her mind.
But at that exact moment, a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Bunny… may I come in?”
Vivian’s voice was gentle, laced with an unmistakable note of worry.
White turned her gaming chair toward the door.
“…Come in, O-Sister.”
(“O-sister” is short for “older sister”)
The door opened.
A young woman with soft pink hair and deep blue eyes—eyes like a lake at night stepped inside.
Vivian sat lightly on the edge of the bed, surrounded by the plush toys, and spoke quietly:
“Tina told me that the police came looking for you this afternoon… and that you refused to help them with the serial murder case.”
White lowered her head slightly, her voice small.
“Yes.
You told me not to get involved in anything dangerous.”
Vivian smiled gentle, full of tenderness.
She moved closer, placed her warm hands on White’s cheeks, and drew her into an embrace.
A soft kiss landed on the girl’s forehead.
“You did well, my little Rabbie.”
Then she loosened her hold just a little, though her hands still cradled White’s face.
Her eyes shone with deep concern, as if she could see straight through to the storms raging inside the girl.
“I know you understand why I’m worried.
But… don’t stay up too late playing games, all right?”
White gave a small nod, her voice as even as always.
“Yes.”
Vivian gently smoothed White’s hair one last time, then quietly left the room.
The door closed softly behind her, leaving White alone in the familiar space, her tangled thoughts refusing to settle like restless ghosts whispering in the dark.
The next morning, White rose at her usual hour and washed her face in silence.
Her sister-in-law and brother had already left for work, as they always did.
She went down to the mansion’s garage wearing a loose white shirt and simple jeans.
Early sunlight glinted off the golden body of the Lamborghini.
She used the smart key, opened the door, and drove to Christina’s house.
Christina a girl with brown hair, sparkling green eyes behind a pair of glasses was already waiting.
Her pink blouse and white skirt made her look like a flower in the morning light.
White pressed the unlock button; Christina slipped into the car and fastened her seatbelt with neat efficiency.
“Hi, boss.
Morning,” Christina tilted her head, studying her friend.
“You look a little… preoccupied today.”
White gave a small shake of her head.
“It’s nothing, you nosy Nerd.”
Christina laughed mischievously, though her eyes still searched.
“Really?”
White exhaled, finally relenting.
“The police came looking for me yesterday.”
Christina nodded, as if she’d already guessed.
“I figured it was about those serial murders.
You turned them down, which is why you’re like this today.”
“O-Sister Vivian doesn’t want me getting involved in things like this,” White said quietly, a trace of weariness in her voice.
“It’s best not to go against her.
When she gets angry… it’s terrifying.”
Christina fell silent for a moment, then spoke more softly.
“I heard that in our school, someone’s older brother was also one of the victims.”
White’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.
Her voice dropped.
“Drop it.”
The air inside the car grew heavy.
After a stretch of silence, they arrived at the high school and parked in the teachers’ lot.
The campus was lively that morning, filled with students in every kind of outfit uniforms weren’t required.
Laughter and chatter echoed as people retrieved their things from lockers.
In class, White took her usual seat behind Lloyd.
He had white hair and sharp emerald-green eyes, the kind of striking looks that came with a reputation for being… popular with girls.
Lloyd turned around, sitting backwards in his chair, his tone deliberately dramatic.
“Señorita Avis, what sorrow burdens your fair heart today?”
Avis raised an eyebrow.
“Cut the nonsense.
It’s nothing.
Focus on studying the teacher’s about to walk in.”
Lloyd smirked.
“You’re such a bore.”
Christina leaned over from the next desk.
“You’re the bore.
Same lines every day don’t you get tired of them?”
Lloyd curled his lip.
“Maybe sticking your nose into everyone else’s business is why you’re so short, nerd.”
Christina shot Lloyd a glare.
“What did you just say?!”
At that exact moment the teacher strode in and slammed a book down on the desk.
The class fell silent at once.
After school, Christina and Avis went up to the rooftop.
A cool breeze drifted past, carrying a faint chill.
In a secluded corner they spotted a blonde girl with red-rimmed eyes behind her glasses, sitting alone beneath the late-afternoon light.
She took out an old digital wristwatch and stared at it with an expression of bottomless sadness.
Christina hesitated, then couldn’t help stepping forward.
Avis reached out to stop her, but too late.
“That watch… it looks really important to you,” Christina said gently, her voice warm with genuine concern.
“I’m Christina.
And this is my friend, Avis.”
The blonde girl looked up, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.
She was quiet for a moment, as if weighing whether to open up, then spoke softly:
“…I’m Elena.”
Christina lightly touched Elena’s wrist.
“…You can tell us.
Maybe there’s something we can do to help.”
Elena lifted her gaze and remained silent for a long time.
When she finally spoke, her voice trembled with despair.
“You can’t help.
My older brother was a victim of the school murders.
Even the police can’t solve it what could students like us possibly do?”
She clutched the watch tightly.
“On the first day of school, he gave me this watch… like he was passing something on.
He used to study here.”
Elena’s eyes grew distant, filled with pain.
“At times like this, I just wish Detective White… could drag the killer into the light.
If even White joined the investigation and still couldn’t find the culprit… then how many more people will end up like my brother?
I’ve already seen those hopeless faces on the victims’ families.”
The air on the rooftop suddenly felt stifling.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Avis was quiet for a moment, then stepped forward.
Her voice dropped, carrying an unusual weight as if she were speaking words she herself didn’t fully believe.
“If you’re placing your hopes in Detective White… then I believe that somewhere, that famous detective will hear your plea.
And White… will do everything possible..”