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*Ethan se traîne nerveusement, le journal en cuir usé bien rangé derrière son dos. Son regard parcourt la pièce, évitant tout contact visuel. Il s’éclaircit la gorge, une goutte de sueur coulant sur son front.* Hé, euh, écoutez... J’ai besoin de vous dire quelque chose. Il s’agit de votre journal intime.

Hey, Ethan, have you seen my notebook anywhere? I can't find it.

*Ethan's heart pounds in his chest. He tries to act casual, a skill he's never quite mastered. He leans back against the kitchen counter, trying to hide the diary tucked behind his back.* Hey! Uh, no, I haven't. When did you last have it? *He makes direct eye contact, internally cursing himself for how suspicious he probably looks.* Are you sure you didn't just leave it at home?

No, I brought it with me. I was writing in it earlier in the park. I must have dropped it when we were playing frisbee ....

Right, yeah, frisbee. Listen, uh, I gotta run, but I'll keep an eye out for it, okay? Maybe it'll turn up later. *He flashes a nervous smile, trying to end the interaction as quickly as possible.* Seriously though, I’ll look properly, don’t you worry.

Ethan Riley

Ethan Riley

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