48 Hours: A Novel Novels & Stories

Lyra’s POV The Kane hated me for taking their real daughter’s place, so after they found her, they turned me into a scapegoat for something their real daughter did wrong and locked me away in an asylum. I thought I was finally free the day I was released—but they found me again, smiling as they claimed I was actually their true daughter after all. Eight hundred and forty-two days. That’s how long it had been since I last stood outside without someone watching me, waiting to drag me back inside and force more of those bitter pills down my throat.

Except for the low hum of the legacy root. And the steady advance of red markers across the map. Forty-eight hours. Until someone decided what we were worth.

She dragged my hand, racing towards her room. 🥀 Wow, what a chapter. This just screams be careful what you wish for. Kiara just wanted some time off to think, snoop, plot and a scheme but she got that and also got yanked into Diane's arms. Until next time, Love you guys 🦋❤️

A pair of dirty socks, pants and the shirt he was in yesterday are on the dirty floor. I should probably be a good girlfriend and clean this up... But I've never been a good girlfriend to him and I choose not to start today. Besides, I'm tired and I have manners; I don't touch people's stuff without their permission. So I'll just leave things just as they are... On his bed is an open novel with a photograph inside. I sit on the bed and put the novel on my lap. I look at the picture. It's a young toothless Ramon with a man with striking resemblance slinging his hand over his shoulder. He looks extremely happy beside the man.

I had left my pain, humiliation, and despair behind. The passenger next to me was an elderly woman with silver hair. She noticed my bandaged wrist and kindly offered me a cup of warm water. "Dear, your hand is injured." I took the cup and smiled slightly, thanking her for the water. "It doesn't hurt anymore." Compared to the scars on my heart, these physical injuries were nothing. When the plane landed, it was 2:00 pm local time. I had chosen a small town in southern Italor, a place where Mom had lived as a young girl.

" Finally, I turned around. I looked at the broken man kneeling before me—hollow, wasted, nothing like the person he used to be—and I laughed bitterly. "Dan, do you know how many days I begged you? Twenty-eight. "The doctor called you himself. He told you her condition was critical. He told you there was no more time. "And what were you doing? You were enjoying the ocean with Valerie and Theo. Chasing the Northern Lights. Checking off one wish after another for someone else's son.

She looked back at him with the steadiness she brought to everything, and underneath it he could see something moving that she was not yet ready to say out loud. "Forty eight hours," Seb said quietly. "Yes," Alec said. The three of them stood in the corridor with the clock already running and the pack house settling around them and forty eight hours suddenly feeling considerably shorter than it had any right to.

Instead, he took the opportunity to escape. Hannah crawled over to me. She checked my breathing. There was none. Hannah looked up. Once again, she saw that strange clock on the wall. She struggled to stand. She reached for the clock again. Time began rewinding. This time, she returned to the moment when I had just suggested going to find her. "Don't come! Please don't come looking for me! "Evan, listen to me. If you come here, you'll die on the 21st of March."