Dead End Courtney Novels & Stories

"Four days. Then we end this." Harper raises an imaginary glass. "To endings." "And beginnings," Jordan adds. I don't say anything else. Just stand there looking at the city through my window, at the life I've built from the ashes of my marriage, at the woman I've become. Four more days. Then I walk into that courtroom and I burn it all down. But this time, I'll be the one walking out of the fire. The article drops on Friday morning, two days before I testify.

But fortunately, a shred of reason remained in me. I did not hesitate. I did not turn back. Sitting in my car, replaying the piercing scenes from tonight, I trembled uncontrollably. I pulled out my phone and still sent that message I had contemplated for so long. [Clara, starting today, let’s part on good terms.] Before pressing send, I could not help recalling everything that had happened between us over the past five years. But everything ended today. The message failed to send. A glaring exclamation mark appeared.

I waited until it was close to midnight—I had three minutes to go. I started thinking back on my life, but it was too simple and plain. There didn't seem to be much to remember. My life had been a tragedy from the moment I was born. The minutes turned to seconds, and I slumped onto the table. I had my urn and photo beside me. Five, four, three, two, one… The countdown ended, and a dead silence descended upon me. The room went silent—even the sound of my breathing disappeared. At the same time, I heard the sound of the doorknob turning. Someone was back!

There, right beside my husband Brandon in the photo, was my so-called best friend, Melissa. … Snapping out of it, I stared at Melissa's two-faced expression. She must have known about the lottery win by then. They had probably plotted the whole thing, faking his death to pocket the cash. "Noelle, don't take it so hard. You're already unwell. What if Brandon's death makes you worse?" I shrugged off Melissa's hand and asked with eerie calm, "Where's Brandon's body? I want to see him." Melissa blinked, thrown off by my composure. "In the ward," she stammered.

Then, she turned and walked away, utterly broken. By the time she got home, the sky had already darkened. Leo immediately rushed toward Charlotte, his tone urgent. "Lottie, how did it go? Did you find Shane? Will he—" She lifted her gaze. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, and her gaze was vacant. "He's dead. Lily… She's dead, too." The urgency on Leo's face instantly froze, and was replaced by genuine shock. But the next second, that shock mixed with barely concealed panic.

"Dad, Mom, I regret it. "You were right. Ines Sutherland was never the right person for me. I want to come home."

Her fingers hammered against the phone, the sharp tapping echoing her irritation. [Say something. Don't act like you're dead.] [If you don't want it, then return it.] Those cold, cutting words dragged me back to that bone-chilling night in the snow. I wanted to tell her that I was already dead—that I had frozen to death in the cheap down jacket she bought me. Winter in the north is brutally cold. So cold that, after failing to secure a hospital bed, I merely closed my eyes for a moment—and never opened them again.

We fought until I was able to knock him down with my shield, I was about to deliver the killing blow until one of the officers told me we needed him alive. So we tied him up and dragged him to Iasi with us, that’s when I learned about the murder of his Centurion and how he riled up a group of rowdy criminals and brought convinced them to burn the village. The next day he was to be executed, and since I had captured him I was given the honor. It was noon, the sun was glaring down on the crowd, we stood on an elevated platform outside the city barracks. The prisoner was kneeling on the edge; I stood behind him, sword in hand. When the judge asked him if he wanted to give any last words, he loo

His voice was getting frantic. Duke was not moving; his eyes were shut and his skin glistened with the first drops of rain that had come with the rumbling sky. “Duke!” Tim screamed. He had felt the panic in Jason’s voice and young as he was, he understood what that meant. Jack stood by the side, tears glimmering in his eyes. It seemed the boy had already given up on life before it started. “He is dead, is he not?” he asked.

, I drew a heavy cross. Twelve days left.