Novel & Cerita A River Runs Through It Audiobook

THIRD PERSON POV “I will let you know when I'm done.” River hung up and stared at the iron gate of Green Bay Orphanage longer than he should have. His boots made no noise when he forced himself through the unlocked gate. He wondered why an orphanage should be left unattended to like this. The environment was even worse than it was in the morning: the air carried the faint of burning paper and disinfectant, the emptiness in the air unnerved him more than the crawling rot of fungi on the walls.

No answer. I checked the studio first. Empty. Then the lounge. Empty. My palms were sweating now, slipping against the doorknobs. Then I heard it. A faint sound, like something scraping against tile. Weak. Unsteady. It froze me in place. My chest tightened until it hurt. I followed it, each step heavier than the last, past the classrooms, until I pushed open a side door. And there he was. River. My River. Lying on the floor, curled up, his hoodie bunched around his fists like he was holding himself together. His face was pale, damp with sweat, and his chest rose in these shallow, broken gasps that made my stomach twist so hard I thought I’d be sick.

I could hear the sounds of pursuit growing closer, and I knew I was running out of time. Just as I thought I might collapse from sheer exhaustion, the forest opened up before me, revealing the rushing waters of the river. I stumbled to the edge, my breath coming in ragged gasps. With one last burst of energy, I plunged into the water, the cold shock jolting me awake. The current pulled at me, dragging me downstream as I struggled to keep my head above water. I could hear Gabriel's men shouting behind me, but their voices grew fainter as the river carried me away. I let the current take me, my body numb with cold and exhaustion.

6: Halfway to the bungalow Jim’s lungs were burning and his legs shook. He stopped and bent forward with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He was more out of shape than he realised. Coming up behind him he heard the familiar rumble on either side of the path. There seemed to be two of them now. There was twice as much noise and the ground on either side of the path shook.

But Eloisa's father and Alexander never lost contact and would often visit each other. Her father did not return the next day either. Three days went by before her father came late at night. Only her mother was awake or so she thought. Eloisa woke up in the middle of the night and got up from the bed to go to bathroom. She came out of her room and turned to go to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. She was returning to her room when she heard the sound of creaking and then voices. There was light coming from the living room downstairs. She crept along the wall and went to the staircase to look down squatting. She could only look at the back of the man from the little fire burning in the

My hair wrapped over my face and I clawed at the water, trying to find the surface. I pushed up once. My head broke through. I inhaled sharply before the river pulled me down again. Everything became noise and pressure and dark water. I kicked. My chest burned. My fingers scraped at nothing. The river didn’t care who I was or what I was running from. It didn’t care about kingdoms or wars or secrets. It just swallowed. My lungs screamed. I tried again. I forced myself up. My head broke the surface and I choked for air that felt too thin.

When I slowly opened my eyes again, I found myself in the ICU. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors was strangely reassuring. Rebecca was sitting right next to my bed, exhaustion etched deep into her features. "You're awake?" She turned toward me, the relief in her voice obvious. "Another five minutes, and your brain would've suffered irreversible damage." I wanted to say something, but nothing came out. "Your vocal cords are burned. Don't talk." She grabbed a damp cotton swab and gently moistened my cracked lips. I gave her a grateful look.

River cools a cloth with ice water and presses it gently against the back of my neck. Every time he pulls away even slightly, panic flares beneath my skin. By the time evening settles outside the windows, I’m exhausted enough to feel delirious. He stands, and the fear is immediate. “No.” I hate the desperation in my own voice. “I just…” My throat tightens painfully. “Don’t go yet.” Something unbearably soft moves across his face. “I’m not very far away, sweetheart.” River watches me unravel quietly for another second, then, without a word, he kicks his shoes off and climbs carefully onto the bed beside the nest.