Ethan stared at the blank pages of the ledger in his dimly lit dorm room. The quiet of the night seemed to deepen as he ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the book. What was it about this thing that fascinated him so much? It was just a book, after all. It couldn't do anything. Could it?
He thought about his exams—how much pressure was on him to succeed. He wasn't ready for the surprise pop quiz in Professor Alan Grant's class. Everyone dreaded it. Everyone knew it would be a disaster.
Ethan took the book, and with a strange sense of certainty, wrote:
> "Professor Alan Grant cancels class tomorrow."
It felt absurd, almost like a game. But deep down, a strange sense of satisfaction settled in his chest. He closed the book and went to bed, not giving it another thought. What harm could it do?
But when the university-wide email arrived the next morning, Ethan couldn't believe his eyes:
"Due to unforeseen circumstances, Professor Alan Grant's class is canceled today."
Ethan stood frozen, staring at the screen, his mind racing. The world seemed to blur, his heart hammering in his chest. It worked.
He looked at the ledger in his hands, the weight of it suddenly feeling so much heavier. Had he really done that? Could it be a coincidence? The rational part of him screamed no, but the part that had secretly always wanted control, wanted to bend life to his will, whispered yes.
This was only the beginning. Something had changed, and Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that the book had just opened a door to something far bigger than he ever expected.