Who Dies In Captain America: Civil War?

I knew my husband, Josh Perkins, had faked his death and taken on his younger twin brother's identity—but I never said a word. Instead, I went straight to the commander of the military district and filed an official report of my husband's death, requesting his name be permanently removed from the service rolls. In my last life, my brother-in-law died in an accident. Josh gave up his rank as regimental commander, abandoned his own name, and stepped into his brother's shoes—all to spare his fragile sister-in-law from becoming a widow. Back then, I recognized him immediately. I confronted him and demanded to know why he was pretending to be a dead man. But Josh just looked through me, cold as a winter morning. "Riley, I know you're grieving Josh. But I'm not him. Don't mistake me for my brother." He shielded that delicate sister-in-law of his behind him, then shoved me into the icy river and warned me not to harbor delusions. Later, our five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn't want her anymore. For that, she was dragged to the cowshed for "reflection"—left there, starving, for three days and nights. My mother-in-law called me a curse, a jinx who'd killed her son, and threw my daughter and me out with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Josh made sure everyone knew I'd "gone mad"—that I was lusting after my brother-in-law before my husband was even cold in the ground. The whole town turned their backs on us. That last winter, I wandered the streets with my girl, dazed and numb, until the cold finally took us both. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day Josh buried his old life and stole his brother's.

*THIS NOVEL HAS CERTAIN GORY SCENES AND MURDERS, PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION* Welcome to Main City, a place where when each child turns thirteen, they must go through a process known as Testing to see which role in society they fit-and it they're deemed worthy enough to live. Jonathan Lee is seven years old when they take him from his home, and just nine months into it, he's announced dead. However, Jonathan isn't dead, testing a bit too well on all the experiments they make him do. Labeled as a threat in the case that if he went rogue, the Higher Ups make the decision to off him. Miraculously, Jonathan survives, and escapes, hiding out in an unknown town far from Main City. Ten years later, Jonathan is still haunted by his past, though he gains a sidekick, a prodigy child by the name of Celia. Everything changes when Destry comes around, seeking to meet a friend in Cyder Hill. Everything changes when he decides to help Celia go back home.

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

Blanche Lucille Emerson, a relentless and calculating Captain haunted by the loss of her wife, Venus, in a mysterious accident. Now driven by a thirst for vengeance, Blanche navigates a world of secrets, betrayal, and political machinations as she digs into the layers of deceit that surround her family's powerful pharmaceutical empire. Alongside her, Yama Laine, a trusted ally, and Cessair, her estranged sister, reveal their own hidden agendas. Blanche uncovers a vast conspiracy linked to General Grey and an underground organization known as the Black Spectre, which her father, Silas Grey, once controlled. The deeper she digs, the more she realizes that not only her wife’s death but also her parents' and countless others' were orchestrated to protect a dark secret connected to her family. As Blanche takes calculated risks and enlists Yama’s help, her plan teeters between survival and self-destruction. Along the way, her encounters with spies like Aracelli and the revelation of her sister Cessair’s resentment deepen the conflict. Old alliances crumble, as personal motivations clash, and long-buried truths about her family and its ties to the Black Market come to light. All the while, Blanche's mind is torn between her mission and her lingering love for Venus. With a final showdown on the horizon, the question remains: Can Blanche take down the enemy and clear her family’s name, or will the weight of the past bury her alive? Catch-22: To Die is To Live Hard is a story of revenge, loyalty, and the heavy price of uncovering the truth.

My husband's ex got kidnapped with me. The guy gave him a choice. "Your ex or your wife. Pick one." Maverick didn't even flinch. He chose her and walked off. After that, hell broke loose. I got tortured till I died. Much later, Maverick decided I was worth remembering. Sent people to find me. Too late. I was already rotting in a dump.

I have the ability to see how people will die. The day my divorce is finalized, I'm hit by an electric scooter and sent flying. When I wake up, I see a line of text above the nurse's head. It reads, "27 years old. Breast cancer in eight years." I pick up my phone. The first name in my contacts is my ex-wife, Caroline Meyer. After a moment's hesitation, I open her social media. Her latest post shows her and her new boyfriend vacationing in Marencia, captioned, "Forever starts with you." The location tag says it was posted three hours ago. We only finalized our divorce the day before. Later, I get a voice message from my daughter. "Daddy, Mommy says I can't go to her new house anymore. Her boyfriend doesn't like kids." I clutch my phone and head out to pick her up, only to run into Caroline's father, John Meyer, outside the apartment building. Above his head, the words read, "62 years old. Carbon monoxide poisoning in three months." The moment John sees me, he starts yelling. "What a loser! My daughter should've divorced you years ago! Her new boyfriend is young, handsome, and owns three houses. What do you have?" I glance at the words above his head, then slowly delete the warning text message I'd already typed out. After that, I take my daughter's hand and say, "Come on. I'm taking you out for burgers."