I heard the sirens, the well-known friction of wheels moving over the floor, lights flashing red and blue. However, I wanted to be able to say that I didn't need care. That I didn't feel the pain anymore. But she returned, this time, straight into my heart, when the stretcher passed me and supported a large body carried by two police officers who wore black helmets. Zachary was raised, unconscious and bathed in blood, practically faint.I couldn't see where all that blood came from, especially because my attention was called to the police officers who were returning from the open door, pulling the injured mobsters in tight handcuffs. Among those who wore dark vests and helmets with the acronyms of the FBI, I recognized the robust figure of Dennis, Zachary's co-worker.The policeman pulled with unnecessary brutality a person smaller than him, covered by black robes and with an arrogant air in his footsteps. When the person raised his head and found me being immobilized by the team of f

The news didn't talk about anything else. The mistake was to believe that it was a terrorist attack. Mocking the news, Kendall stroked his burnt arm, feeling a sudden itching in him. There was proof that the intentions of that massacre involved more than political and religious interests.No one could ever say that she was not the kind of person who put his hand on the fire for a friend. She put her whole arm for Mila! And if he would throw himself completely into a fire for Tristan. Thinking about it brought him hilarious pleasure, and ended up having to fight against the hysterical laughter that floated in his throat. I was already more than crazy just for all that damn wait.He didn't realize he fell asleep until he heard someone calling her softly. He swore to have heard Tristan's voice, but when he raised his head from the hard and rough seats on which he leaned, he realized that another man stood on the door frame of the open.Stefan Turner seemed more dejected than usual. The h

The doorman greeted me as soon as I passed the family concierge and let Kendall drag my chair. I had never thrown more than one look at the ramp passage that went up to the floors, always running through the steps of the main staircase, but now, it was that path I needed to take.I entered my destroyed apartment turning the wheels of the chair with my own hands, because despite smiling, Kendall was pale and sweaty for taking me through the steep path. I didn't like to think that she felt she had an obligation to help me, and she did her best not to have to ask. But life is very different from the pink world when you lose the ability to be free, and depending on others is the only way to live.We don't even need a key to open the door, it was propped up, torn from its hinges. A police containment strip surrounded the room and fixed itself on the corners of the walls, at that moment filled by the cardboard boxes with things stored. The windows no longer had glass, the pots formed a dang

One year later"Do you mean that now you write real novels? "As asked one of the men in the circle of girls.I nodded, pushing my hair away to my shoulders." Some people like to live love, I prefer to write about it.His face changed from curiosity to admiration in a snap of fingers. I had trained that answer in front of the mirror several times before that one. First because my family didn't seem to understand what my profession required of me, and then because it was the easiest answer to give in an interview. Short, thick, and at the same time what they would like to hear. My agent would be proud."A toast to success! "Said the blonde next to me, raising the full cup."Do not mix alcohol with medicines," advised the man next to him, pulling the cup to his own lips.The blonde stretched out to take the cup back, but the man leaned back and ran away from his reach. When she got tired, she sat on the chair and blew the strands of hair that fell on her face. A single reddish strand sho

A few years later“Every night, while I was just a girl, my grandmother used to sit next to me in bed reciting for me the same story of the princess of the seas that I'm about to tell...”"Oh, no, mom," grumbled the little girl with red and thick hair, with the blanket partially covering her small body at that moment. "I don't want to hear stories of princesses again. And Ariel's story isn't even that cool."Laughing, his twin brother agreed:"It's true, Mom. The stories are repeated every night. In addition, it is practically impossible for a girl to give up her legs for a boy," he yawned and supported a hand below his chin, as if his argument did not leave gaps for refutation. "Tell me more about how you and Dad met."I couldn't help but smile. My story with Zachary had been full of ups and downs, tragedies and happiness, but he had also given me an invaluable gift. The love of two children who were not in our plans, but became the axis of our worlds.At that time, we had been togeth