Novels by Jhoyvhill

The morning came dressed in haze and heat, the kind that made even the air feel heavy with secrets. Jannah moved quietly through the house, every motion deliberate, every sound measured. Alyssa was resting after her checkup, their mother tending to her as if nothing in the world was wrong.But Jannah’s heart thudded with the weight of everything that was.She told them she’d be heading to the market again—her voice calm, her face composed. Her mother barely glanced up from the kitchen, too occupied slicing fruit for Alyssa. It was easier than Jannah expected. Too easy.Outside, the streets were already awake. Vendors shouted prices, tricycles rumbled by, and the sun glared against tin rooftops. But none of it felt real. The world had blurred into a hum beneath her fear.By the time she reached the café, her palms were slick with sweat.Mia was already there, seated at the same window table, a manila envelope resting between her hands. Her expression softened when she saw Jannah approa

Jannah stood frozen long after Adrian’s footsteps faded up the staircase. The air in the Vasquez foyer felt thick, as if every breath was borrowed. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, trying to quiet the erratic thud of her heart, but it wouldn’t calm—not when his voice still lingered in the air.He had asked for her. Not Alyssa. Her.It wasn’t a simple question—it was a crack in the wall she’d built so carefully between them. And if Adrian Cruz had learned anything from their months together, it was how to notice the smallest fractures.Jannah forced herself to move, to sit on the nearest chair like she belonged there. She folded her shawl neatly over her lap, pretending calm while her body screamed to flee. From upstairs came the faint murmur of voices—Alyssa’s bright and careful, their mother’s trembling with joy, and Adrian’s low tone that made her stomach twist.He was with Alyssa now. Her sister. The rightful one.That thought should have brought her peace. Instead, it ho

The next morning broke quietly, sunlight spilling in soft gold through the lace curtains. Jannah moved carefully, waiting until Alyssa and their mother had gone to see the doctor for her sister’s follow-up. The house felt lighter, emptier, and for once, it gave her space.Her heart pounded as she pulled out the small wooden box again. The folded list she had written the night before stared up at her like an accusation. She tucked it into her pocket, along with a few bills, then slipped a shawl around her shoulders.She left her room quietly, not as a daughter walking through her own home, but like an intruder. Every step down the staircase creaked too loudly. Every sound in the kitchen made her flinch. But she kept walking.At the corner store down the road, she borrowed the payphone—the same one she used years ago when she wanted to call without anyone listening. Her fingers trembled as she dialed the number of an old schoolmate, Mia, who now worked in a travel agency.“Hello? This i

The first sign was subtle—a dull nausea rolling through her stomach as she rose from bed. Jannah pressed a hand to her lips, willing it away. She told herself it was from lack of sleep, from nerves, from the constant knot in her chest that never seemed to loosen. But when it returned the next morning, sharper and more insistent, she could no longer pretend.Her reflection in the mirror betrayed her: paler skin, tired eyes, a faint softness to her face she couldn’t explain. She gripped the edge of the basin, breath trembling as the truth began to gnaw at her.No. It cannot be.Not her. Not now.She sank to the floor, arms wrapping around herself as the memory of her promise came back—the one spoken in a whisper, desperate and sincere, to her mother and Alyssa on the night before everything unraveled.“I will never betray her. I will never take what is meant only for Alyssa. Adrian may be my husband on paper, but I will never… I will never go that far.”Tears burned her eyes. She had br

The sun had barely risen when Jannah slipped out of her room, dark circles shadowing her eyes from a sleepless night. The Vasquez residence felt suffocating in the quiet—the creak of the floorboards, the faint hum of voices from Alyssa’s room, the scent of breakfast wafting through the air. Everything screamed of home, yet for her, it felt like she was a stranger walking in borrowed spaces.Her gaze lingered on the closed door down the hall. Alyssa’s door. The real daughter, the real wife. She clenched her fists against her chest. If I just keep my distance… if I just let her take her rightful place, maybe this ache will stop.But before she could retreat to the garden, the sound of an engine rolling up the driveway made her breath hitch. Tires on gravel. The low hum cut straight through her chest.Adrian.He had come again.Jannah’s heart pounded, her body caught between running and staying. Every time he appeared, it felt as though her resolve shattered a little more. She pressed he

The house was awake by the time Jannah finally dragged herself out of her room, though she felt like a ghost among the living. Her mother’s voice drifted faintly from Alyssa’s room—soft, warm, relieved. Laughter, too. Real laughter. Alyssa’s. It made Jannah stop halfway down the hall, clutching the bannister for balance.Her heart twisted. This was how it was supposed to be. Alyssa returning. Alyssa glowing. Alyssa reclaiming the life Jannah had borrowed like a thief in the night.Jannah forced her feet to move again, heading toward the kitchen. She needed water, something—anything to ground her. But when she turned the corner, she froze.The butler stood in the entryway, speaking in hushed tones. And beyond him—Adrian.He had come unannounced, dressed in crisp black, his presence filling the space with quiet command. His dark eyes scanned the foyer, restless, searching. Jannah lingered in the shadows of the archway, her chest tightening with every breath. From her hidden place, she

I wasn’t going to hide anymore. Not tonight. Not after the notes, the moved backpack, the shadows I couldn’t explain. Whoever had been creeping into my life… I needed answers. I stayed up late, apartment silent except for my own breath, and waited. Every creak of the floor, every faint rustle made my heart race. But I forced myself to stay calm, eyes scanning the room. Then I heard it—the softest movement near the window. My pulse spiked, but I didn’t panic. Instead, I stepped forward, voice low but firm. “Who’s there?” Silence. “Stop hiding. I know you’re here. I know what you’ve been doing!” My voice was stronger now, shaking slightly but filled with resolve. “If you want to scare me… fine. But I need answers!” A shadow shifted near the balcony door. My heart thudded in my ears. “You think this is a game?” I whispered, more to myself than them. “I’m not afraid anymore.” Then the figure stepped into the dim light. Still far enough away that I couldn’t make out the fac

After classes ended, I headed to the library to get some quiet time to study. The usual chatter of students had thinned, leaving the room eerily still. I tried to focus on my notes, but my eyes kept darting to the shadows in the corners, convinced I was being watched. I reached for my notebook, planning to jot down everything that had happened over the past few days. That’s when I noticed it: a pen. Sleek, black, and unfamiliar, lying across my desk. I knew every pen I owned. This wasn’t one of them. My hands shook as I picked it up. Beneath it was a small slip of paper. I unfolded it with trembling fingers: "You’re looking too hard. Don’t let them see you sweat." My stomach dropped. Someone had been here, in the library, while I wasn’t looking. My pulse raced, and my heart thudded so loudly I thought everyone could hear it. I glanced around, the rows of empty tables and towering bookshelves suddenly feeling suffocating. Every shadow seemed alive, every creak of the floorb

I couldn’t sleep. Not really. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw shadows stretching across my walls, crawling closer like they had a mind of their own. My phone buzzed once, twice, and I jumped as though someone had shoved me. But it was just… nothing. Just the endless stream of notifications that never seemed to stop. Still, I couldn’t shake it. Someone was here. I knew it. My apartment felt smaller, tighter, as if the walls themselves were leaning in to trap me. I triple-checked the locks, peeked through the blinds, and even checked the back alley for footprints. Nothing. No one. And yet… the feeling lingered. The prickling along my neck, the hair on my arms standing straight up, the sudden, inexplicable chill. My heart raced like a drum in a war march. I kept thinking about Aiden, about how he’d started pulling away, about how distant he’d become. Was he… worried for me? Or was he just giving me space? I didn’t want space. I wanted him here. I wanted him to tell me it was noth

(Elle’s POV) The second note wasn’t the last. By the end of the week, I had three more. All written in the same frantic scrawl, all slipped into places they had no business being—inside my locker, tucked into my class notebook, even one folded neatly and placed on the driver’s seat of my car. Each one different, but each with the same message: “He doesn’t deserve your loyalty.” “You belong with me.” “Soon you’ll see who truly cares.” At first, I tried to laugh it off. Told myself it was some cruel prank. But there was no laughter in the ink. Whoever was writing these… they believed every word. And then, the gifts started. A small velvet box with a silver charm bracelet. A book I’d mentioned once in passing, sitting wrapped on my desk. A cup of coffee, still warm, left on the bench where I usually sat after class. No names. No explanation. Just… knowing. Knowing me too well. I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to scream it. But every time I though

(Elle’s POV) The notes kept coming. Folded paper tucked into my locker, slipped under my books, pinned beneath the wiper of my bike. At first, I tried to laugh it off. Everyone said I had admirers—I told myself it was harmless. But this wasn’t flattery. This was someone peeling back layers of me I hadn’t shown to anyone. “You like to hum when you’re nervous. It’s cute.” “Stop biting your nails. I’ll hold your hands instead.” “Red suits you. Wear it again.” The last one made me throw the note into the trash so fast my fingers burned. Because that morning, I had been wearing my red scarf. And only someone watching closely—too closely—would know that. At night, the house no longer felt like home. The windows rattled louder, the shadows stretched longer. Every creak sounded like footsteps creeping closer. And the worst part? I couldn’t tell anyone. If I told Liam, he’d laugh it off, tell me I was being dramatic. If I told my parents, they’d only wor

(Elle’s POV) The note lay on the counter, mocking me in its crooked letters. My pulse hammered as I read it again, then again, like maybe the words would change if I stared long enough. They didn’t. But admitting what they meant? No. I wasn’t ready. With a shaky laugh, I crumpled the paper in my fist and shoved it deep into the trash. “Some stupid prank,” I whispered to the empty kitchen. “People have too much time.” Even as I said it, my hand wouldn’t stop trembling. The next morning, I acted like nothing happened. I plastered on my smile, teased Liam the way I always did, even let him copy off my notes because he’d been half-asleep in class again. And for a while, it worked. I almost believed it myself. Almost. Except every time my eyes wandered, I looked for Aiden. And when he wasn’t there, the ache grew heavier, sharper. He’d been slipping further away, his silence stretching between us like a canyon. And instead of chasing him like I probably should have,