115. Red String Between Mark and Josh

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• The Price of Hidden Sins   146. What a Conversation

  Ashley sat across from Josh in the dim glow of the late afternoon, the television flickering silently in the background, casting shifting colors across their faces. The blinds were half-closed, slicing the sunlight into golden bars that lay across the floor and furniture like ribbons of fading warmth. Their living room, usually a space of idle comfort, felt suspended in a strange, weighty stillness. There was no music, no hum of casual conversation—only the faint rustle of steam rising from the two cups of tea on the coffee table.Josh cleared his throat. “So... how are you feeling? After the basement incident, I mean?”He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, both hands cradling his cup as if it could warm more than just his fingers. His voice was low, careful, but his eyes betrayed him—dark with concern, clouded by something deeper. Ashley sat back against the cushions, her legs tucked beneath her. She wrapped both hands around her own cup, its porcelain still warm against h

• The Price of Hidden Sins   145. Jacuzzi

  Josh came home earlier than usual that day. His work had wrapped up faster than he’d expected, and for once, he didn’t feel like stopping anywhere. No detour to the bar, no lingering at the office, no unnecessary errands to kill time. He just wanted to go home. His body felt tired, but his mind—his mind was exhausted in a different way. Heavy. Quiet. Burdened with something he couldn’t quite name.The moment he stepped into the house, he noticed something unusual.Silence.A strange, unnatural silence.He climbed the stairs to the second floor slowly—not sluggish, but deliberate. There was a pattern in his body, a subconscious rhythm that carried him straight to their bedroom. Or, more precisely, what used to be their bedroom.When he opened the door, it hit him immediately.The glass door leading to the private terrace was wide open. The sheer gray curtains fluttered in the soft afternoon breeze, dancing like shadows. Sunlight, already slanting toward the west, spilled into the room

• The Price of Hidden Sins   144. Mark's Punches

  The warehouse reeked of rust and damp rot. It was the kind of place where bad things happened—cement floors cracked with age, a leaking roof overhead, and a few flickering neon lights that cast long, twitching shadows across the empty crates and metal beams. Dust hung in the air, glittering faintly like ash.In the center of the space, chaos unfolded.Mark was a blur of movement. His fists were raw, knuckles bleeding as he drove them again and again into the thick bodies of the four men before him. The men didn’t fight back. They barely moved. One of them staggered with each blow, blood trailing down from a split lip, another keeled over as Mark’s knee collided with his ribs. But none of them lifted a hand to defend themselves.Off to the side, a man in his late fifties stood slumped near a stack of crates, half-hidden in the shadows. His shirt—a gaudy leopard-print button-up—was soaked in sweat. Both his arms were inked to the wrist, veins protruding as he clenched his fists. But he

• The Price of Hidden Sins   143. Lean On

  Mark and Ashley sat in the farthest booth of the restaurant, tucked into a quiet corner that felt removed from the rest of the world. Mark had chosen it deliberately—a space with tall-backed seats and leafy partition plants that separated them from nearby tables. It was as close to privacy as one could get in a public place like this, and it was exactly what Ashley needed.He watched her subtly from across the table as she sipped from a steaming cup of tea. Her fingers were still trembling slightly as she held the cup, and her eyes stayed fixed on a distant point past Mark’s shoulder. She hadn’t said much since they sat down, but he didn’t rush her. There was no pressure in his posture, no expectation in his silence. Just presence. Just patience.Ashley shifted uncomfortably in her seat, fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic cup in her hands. The tea inside had long since stopped steaming, but she hadn’t taken more than a sip. Mark knew better than to force words out of someone w

• The Price of Hidden Sins   142. Honesty and Pain

  Ashley barely had time to react."That’s Josh," Mark said, his voice low but unmistakable, slicing through the hum of the mall like a blade.Ashley froze mid-step. Her breath hitched. For a heartbeat, she considered denying it, pretending not to hear. But the truth had already settled like a weight in her gut—and worse, Mark had seen him too. There was no point in hiding it anymore. Her chest tightened with panic, shame, and something far more disorienting: fear.Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Mark’s hand, fingers curling around his wrist with sudden urgency. She yanked him away from the glass-fronted boutique, guiding them in the opposite direction with quick, nervous steps."Ashley—wait," Mark said, glancing back over his shoulder, his voice pitched in quiet confusion. "I saw Josh. He’s right there—"His other hand gestured back toward the store as if she hadn't heard him the first time. But Ashley didn’t slow down. She didn’t say a word. Her grip on his hand only tig

• The Price of Hidden Sins   141. Sharon

  The car hummed steadily down the freeway, the early afternoon sun casting long, golden streaks across the dashboard. Outside, the city blurred by—towers of glass, street signs, red lights flickering, everything moving too fast and yet feeling strangely still. Ashley sat in the passenger seat, her eyes distant. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her calm exterior. She leaned slightly back into the seat, but her posture remained rigid—like her body hadn't quite left the hospital mindset.Beside her, Mark drove with practiced ease. One hand rested on the steering wheel, the other hovering near the gearshift. He glanced her way occasionally, not speaking, just checking. The silence between them was not the kind bred by comfort, nor was it stifling. It was... heavy. Suspended. The kind of silence that comes when two people have too much history and not enough clarity.And then, without warning, it happened.A loud, gurgling growl erupted from