Crossed Out Words Mga Nobela at Kwento

Goodbye. ****

He became genuinely curious and looked down at the paper. "You spelled it like Aribell." I laughed and took out a bottle of white out. With a clean swipe I covered the misspelling and waited for it to dry. "It's okay though, my computer has done this before where it will change my name before I print so this isn't a different thing." With a smile I wrote carefully over the dried whiteout, my name now standing out loud and proud- well not so proud but definitely loud.

Just four words printed in clean, bold fonts that made all the blood in my face drained out in realization: Cease and desist.

Attached to his page is a note that says “Recently lost a sibling. Reserved, Strong potential, Watchful.” The word “Watchful” jumps at me from the pages. He noticed thing, details. People. My curiosity stirs even more and a voice inside whispers to look closer. This is my cue to shut the files and pace the length of my small apartment. I should keep my head down. None of this concerns me and I have to not make it any of my business. As I scrub my hands through my hair a part of me knows in more ways than one that I will royally screw this up.

, I drew a heavy cross. Twelve days left.

The gardener looked at me with a mix of pity and horror. "Dig it up. The smell stinks." My voice was indifferent. Watching the tree crash down, its roots—connected to the earth's ley lines—exposed to the air, I felt nothing but relief. I returned to the study and found the Blood Oath scrolls and cards Ethan had written to me. I shoved them, stack by stack, into the magical shredding array. The array hummed, and the sweet nothings that once made my wolf's heart race instantly turned into meaningless dust.

The opening was a promotional video of a six-star hotel in the Madiles, but it was edited with a depressing black-and-white filter and accompanied by sad music. The caption emerged. [The boss's empty promise sure looks tempting.] The scene switched to Cynthia's workstation, where a regular form was zoomed in on. The caption that followed wrote: [Unfortunately, I am just an employee who wants to get off work in peace.] Then came a close-up of her on the verge of tears, captioned: [I was told to use my precious weekend to attend a large group performance. I am speechless.] She cleverly twisted the concept of "extra paid leave" into "using her weekend."

The crib was empty, and everything was gone. Even our wedding portrait had been taken down. The room held nothing of mine except the faint trace of my scent still lingering on the pillow. Every sign that I had ever existed in this house had been erased. I had been desperate enough to wipe away every last trace, to leave him with nothing to hold onto. Jasper slid down the side of the bed and crumpled onto the floor, clutching the pillow to his chest. His shoulders shook violently, and a single hot tear rolled down his face.