Forced to Marry My Bully
…
The diary ended here, abruptly.
Outside the window, the snow from the night before howled as it lashed against the panes.
Yes, today was August 3rd.
“You didn’t have time to write in your journal, did you? You’re out there in the snowstorm, aren’t you, Ethan?” I murmured.
The distant mountains seemed to tremble, and the wind was so fierce it felt as if it could scatter one’s very soul.
They said there was an avalanche on the high peaks and there was still a group of people up there on that mountain.