Bleeding Through The Truth Novels & Stories

“These two have been meeting in barns for months. Vivian threw herself at Vince and ruined our relationship.” "Lie!" Perry looked at Kathleen in disbelief. "How dare you call my daughter a liar!" It was Judd Randall who stepped to his daughter's side. He was a retired general of the Calvary, and still carried his body straight and proud despite his permanent injuries. He knew of his daughter’s indiscretion and condition, he had supported her idea to tell Vince. After all the father had a right to know. After this, though, he would not support a forced marriage. There were other ways to go about this. His sharp yes shushed Kathleen.

He just don't want to admit at that he messed up on this. "Trust this only thing left after you removed all the impossible. Then this thing must be the final product of what you've processed. Do not think for the other possibility.for the truth must be accepted, even if it breaks your emotions down," the chairman said. "That's my advice for you, dear future detectives." He was already giving advice. I must say he have hit some parts in my emotions. The truth was sweet for some, but sometimes it tastes bitter for someone who have suffered.

I want scream and cry because it's hurting. Everything is hurting. My body gave up and I sat down in the middle of the road. Why me? Why me god? Why you have to Play with me like this. Am I that bad. Just kill me, I am tired of everything. Just end this miserable life. My eyes widened when I heard the loud horn and sharp flashlight blinded my vision. The last thing I remember is hard thid against my head and warm liquid flowing from my head as it hit the road. That's it, I am free. I am leaving this w

Kayla’s POV The shattered pieces of porcelain glistened on the floor like fragments of my broken life. White shards scattered across the tile like frozen tears, sharp enough to cut, delicate enough to crumble at a touch. My hands shook violently as I clutched the phone, my chest tightening until it hurt to breathe. You can run, but you can’t hide. Liam will know the truth soon enough. The words burned into my vision. Truth. That one word echoed louder than the rest, stabbing at the secret I carried like a knife twisting deeper.

he asked one night, his wide brown eyes filled with confusion. The question broke her. She pulled him into her lap, kissed the top of his head, and whispered, “Because some people are afraid of the truth, baby. But the truth is stronger. I promise you.” Noah didn’t fully understand, but his small arms tightened around her. For Amara, it was enough to breathe again. The allies rallied fast. The journalist who had first dared to leak Ethan’s secrets sent a late-night message: “Hold steady. The smear is predictable. I’ve seen him do it before. But it won’t last if you answer it smart.”

And for the first time in weeks, amidst the chaos, the manipulation, and the storm of headlines, I felt something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel: a fragile, trembling hope. Because now, at least, the truth was out. And with truth came clarity. And with clarity… came the possibility of moving forward. -

** The Price of Truth** The sunlight streamed through the hospital window, bathing the room in an eerie calm that contrasted sharply with the storm of uncertainty raging inside Claire’s mind. She lay quietly, the sterile white sheets pulled up to her chest, her body still healing from the wounds of the last battle. The fight had drained them all—physically, emotionally, financially. But as the light poured in, it felt like the world outside was moving on without them. Maybe they had exposed the truth, but the price for it was becoming unbearable.

Shame rolled off him in waves, hot an⁠d pa‌lpable. “The medication‍,” I said clearly, my voice finding⁠ a‍ steady register for the benefit of the room. “It can thin⁠ the blood. This happens somet‍imes. It l Doesn't look that bad.” It was a necessary, blatant lie. We all kn⁠ew it. ⁠ The noseble⁠ed was not the illness, but a flag it had plant⁠ed, a visibl‌e decla‍ration o‌f its pre⁠sence in our midst.

He stood by the dissolving press, his hands reaching into the violet mist as if he could catch the melting shards of his "Permanent Narrative." ​"It was perfect," he whispered, his eyes glazed with a terrifying, white-hot grief. "It was the only version that would never fade. You’ve given them back the rot, Aara. You’ve given them back the Eraser." ​"I gave them back the Option," I said, my voice steady despite the shaking floor. "A truth that can't be challenged isn't a truth, Arthur. It's a prison." ​ ​The floor tilted. A crack, sudden and sharp as a gunshot, split the concrete rotunda in two. The liquid mercury began to seep through the fissures, a silver, lethal river snaking across the

A shiver run down my spine seeing it, My palms curled into fist. To be continued............. A/P "The fear of losing someone you love makes the truth come out." ~A/N