Where Can I Read Norman Rockwell'S Four Freedoms For Free?

I gave Julian Marchetti thirty years of my life after the war ended. I built his empire, raised his children, and held the family together behind the scenes. But when he died, his will didn’t even mention my name. Half his fortune went to our children. The other half went to Lydia Carter, the daughter of the man who’d saved his life in Normandy. The same Lydia who’d stolen my identity.The same Lydia who’d built her entire life on the ruins of mine. All he left me was a single note, scrawled in his familiar handwriting. I loved you. We had thirty good years. But I owe Lydia. This is the least I can do. I dropped dead of a heart attack right there in his study, clutching that pathetic piece of paper. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn in 1945, when the war had just ended This time I will not swallow my anger and suffer in silence; I will fight back. And I will take back every single thing that is rightfully mine.

At my daughter's high school graduation party, she greeted me with a bouquet containing her wish list. "My dearest Mom! "My life truly begins at eighteen! "This is the first step toward rebuilding my social image and starting an entirely new life! "Thank you, Mom, for supporting me completely!" The list tucked into the bouquet included the newest phone, tablet, laptop, and earbuds. Together, the smaller items cost more than five thousand dollars. But the final line, printed in bold red letters, stabbed into my eyes like the point of a knife: Helena Abernathy must give Chloe Collins a house free of charge. The property will be for Chloe's exclusive use, and no one else will be permitted inside. I stared at the bouquet, while the soul that had died unjustly in my previous life trembled inside my body. Last time, I carried that bouquet home and tossed and turned all night. In the end, I still tried to discuss it with my daughter. "Chloe, about the house... I truly can't afford it right now." "Could we possibly..." Chloe was silent for three seconds before accusing me through tears. "I knew it! You never loved me. You only love yourself!" My photograph, address, and workplace were posted across social media. Then came the online attacks, the doxxing, the red paint splashed across my door, and the suspension from my job. When I stood on a rooftop, unable to endure the abuse any longer, the people below kept recording and shouting: "Jump! If you aren't guilty, why would you jump?" This time, I looked down at the bouquet in my arms and smiled. I didn't want the list. And I didn't want this daughter anymore.

Vienna Carter’s life is a living hell and her home is Earth’s chapter of Tartarus. But when her husband goes on a month-long business trip, she seizes the opportunity to know something other than her world of pain. She joins the passengers on Queen Odette, a cruise ship that promises her the best month of her life. As she takes in the elegance of the ship and is pampered by their first-class services, she starts to believe that the promise will be fulfilled. But her hopes of a perfect vacation are thrown overboard when she finds out the man staying in the suite next to hers is none other than the love of her life,Ex-boyfriend and reason for all her suffering. Only a psychopath would choose to be hunched over a desk, working for hours on end over the deckchairs of a luxurious cruise ship, watching the sunset on the Atlantic Horizon. Hans Griffin is that psychopath. He craves his office’s cold glass walls and despises his luxurious suite aboard Queen Odette and is beginning to despise his best friend for convincing him to do this. Work helped him forget his demons but this ship is made to tear down the walls he spent the last two years rebuilding and after meeting the woman staying in the suite next to his, he fears those walls might be reduced to nothing but piles of rubble before the month is over. How will Hans endure one month with just a wall separating him and the woman who scarred him? How will Vienna keep her distance from the one man she’s forbidden to be with when she’s stuck on this cruise with him? But most importantly, what secrets will be revealed before the thirty days are over?

There were two famous deadweights in Kingsgate's high society. One was me, Millie Tanner, the pampered little princess whose only talents were shopping and throwing parties. The other was my childhood friend, Iver Langford, the fragile young heir born with autism and congenital heart failure. However, my older brother was the most feared name in the underworld, and my second brother was the richest man in the country. Iver's older sister was the undefeated queen of the courtroom, and his second sister was a surgeon whose hands could bring back the dead. One day, the four of them were chatting over a game of poker. "Raising one hopeless case takes the same effort as two. Might as well pair them off." Just like that, Iver and I signed the marriage papers. Our married life consisted of maxing out my second brother's credit cards, raiding my older brother's dinner table, and waiting for his sisters to show up with care packages. That was the routine, until my older brother sent us to attend a banquet at the Crestport tycoon's estate in his place. At the banquet, the tycoon's daughter, Portia Beaumont, waved around a blurry photo taken from behind and insisted I was the other woman who had stolen her boyfriend. I kept my temper. "You have the wrong person. I'm married, and this is my husband." Portia lost it on the spot and swung at me. "Married and still out here throwing yourself at men?" Iver stepped in front of me on instinct and took the slap meant for me. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. She sneered, "Oh, is he slow? His wife's out cheating and he can't even tell, but he still jumps in to protect her? One's a tramp, and the other's an idiot. The perfect match!" She flicked her wrist, and several bodyguards lunged toward us. "Get them both." My heart ached as I looked at Iver, and I dialed my older brother's number. "Someone's picking on me." These people had no idea. Crossing the four terrors of Kingsgate and living to tell about it was one thing. Messing with the two of us was something else entirely.

The year I lost my sight at five, I found Stellan Hale half-frozen in the snow. I told my mother I wanted a companion to guide me and begged her to take him in. Then I leaned close to his ear and whispered a promise. "I don't need you to be my guide dog. Just stay alive. Go wherever you want to go." Still, Stellan stayed. After Mom remarried, he became the only person I had left. He watched over me as I grew up, serving as my eyes and my cane year after year. He even gave up his extraordinary talent for painting to study medicine, all for the sake of my sight. Even after he became one of the most brilliant ophthalmologists in the country, I still could not see. On my 25th birthday, someone he had once been close to won a prestigious art prize. He shut himself inside the study, and I could hear pages rustling behind the door. He told me, his voice carefully even, that he was writing my birthday wishes. I smiled and moved toward him, wanting to kiss his cheek, when words suddenly scrolled across the darkness behind my eyes. "Wake up, you blind little fool. He's tearing every one of his paintings to shreds. On the back of each one, he even wrote 'Go to hell, Elara Langley.' "Stop walking. There's a wire on the floor ahead of you. One more step and you're dead." I froze. Then I smiled again and kept walking. "Stel, Stel, every wish you made for me is going to come true."

When Gideon Clarke rejected another one of my reimbursement requests, he attached the same message. "Your grandma doesn't have long to live. No matter how expensive the medication is, she won't even know the difference. As long as her vital signs are stable, that's enough. My money doesn't grow on trees." He was right. So I decided I would never spend another penny of his money again. I was leaving the Clarke family and the gilded cage that came with it. When the housekeeper saw the divorce papers in my hand, she shook her head with contempt. "Couldn't keep your husband, so now you're playing games." Gideon took the papers without saying a word. He only frowned at me, looking at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum. "Audrey, I'm busy. I have research to do and papers to write. I don't have time for this nonsense." In the end, though, I still got the signed divorce agreement. All thanks to his adopted sister. I was Mrs. Clarke, the wife of the nation's youngest and most celebrated scientist. Yet I lived worse than a stray dog. My grandmother needed approval from his adopted sister before she could have a 50,000-dollar surgery. If I came down with a fever and needed to be hospitalized, I needed her permission. Even after my grandmother died, I had to wait for her to be in the right mood before I could pay the cremation fee at the funeral home. I had endured it for five years. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days. Now, I would never have to endure it again.