Elizabeth Reyes Author Novels & Stories

Those eyes—Jonathan's eyes, sharp and warm at the same time. "You're honest," she said. "That's more than most people give." "Is it enough?" The question hung between us. She didn't answer. Just reached out and took my hand. Her fingers were cold. I wrapped both hands around them, trying to share warmth. We stood like that for a long moment. No words. Just presence. Then the door opened. --- Eliza's POV The DA's investigator was a woman named Reyes—forties, sharp suit, sharper eyes. She introduced herself, glanced at Adam, at me, at the box, and got straight to business.

It was like she'd been buried when she'd taken the Hernandez name. Reyes didn't like mysteries and he didn't like women that eluded him. He was straightforward in business and straightforward when it came to fucking. He wanted both to be quick and efficient with as little mess to his personal life as possible. He knew, without a doubt, if he continued to pursue the growing obsession he felt with the Hernandez woman, that he was in danger of doing something he'd vowed never to do. Creating a mess. A weakness for exploitation.

Some words don’t land like thunder. They land like water — quietly, without drama, finding every crack you didn’t know existed and filling them so completely that by the time you understand what’s happened, you are Already changed. Her name is Camila Reyes. And she is your mother. Elena stood in the lobby of Cole Towers with the morning light pressing through the glass and Damian’s hand holding hers, and she felt the world reorganize itself around that single sentence the way a room reorganizes itself when someone turns on a light no one realized

The work that kept arriving on Thursday mornings, or didn't, and waited when it didn't, and came when it was ready. "I don't know yet," I said. "Something." "Something," Viktor agreed. "Something good," I said. "I think." He looked at the dress. At the before of it. "Yes," he said. "I think so too." I looked at the eleven pieces in the gallery light. At my mother's dedication in the programme still in my hand. Elena Reyes. 1970 to 2007. She held her pencil wrong. At the jacket. The in-between. Still room to grow into.

Elizabeth Powell was tall, elegant, with silver hair swept into a sophisticated twist and eyes that missed nothing. "Emelda," Smith said, crossing to my desk. "This is Elizabeth Powell." Elizabeth extended a perfectly manicured hand, her grip firm and confident. "Ms. Jones. I've been following your story with great interest." "All of it? Even this morning's character assassination?" I gestured to the newspaper still sitting on my desk. Elizabeth's smile was sharp as a blade. "Especially this morning's amateur hour. Victoria Martinez thinks she's playing chess, but she's barely managing checkers."

"Miss Schmidt. It's very good to see you again. Do come in." She bobs, accepting the hand. "Thank you so much for agreeing to this, Mr Haswell." "My pleasure. I enjoyed reading your previous piece. And, as I told you when we first met, it's Richard." She beams. "Since it's such a lovely day, would you like to talk while we walk through the garden?" "Would you mind? I'd love to see it." "Not at all. Elizabeth, will you join us?" *****

Ellie replied, her voice slightly exasperated at the insinuation she wasn't trying to figure it out. "He is an oracle, but you are not. You are one of the chosen, your gift does not work like his. Come here, Elizabeth, let me show you," the woman replied as she reached out with one hand to touch Ellie's head. Her mind was filled with pictures and sounds, flitting by like a movie except the images were moving so fast Ellie would never be able to focus on each individual flashback. It was like looking at a scrapbook in fast forward, never able to see the people in the photos. Finally, an image stopped in front of her eyes.

Anaj winked at the princess who was giggling. " I hope we will not be caught, Anaj, or the Queen will have our head on a plate." Elizabeth pushed the blankets off her legs before she got herself out of the bed. "That is scary." Anaj laughed while throwing the red dress on the bed. Anaj continued,"Ah, no, red can flinch heads. Let's use hues that are not too... eye-catching. " Her thoughts are now flooded with the possible colors to use without getting caught. "I think I'm going to use red." Elizabeth flinched at Anaj who looked at her with playful gazes. She said," If I were to rebel once, then I must savor the moment."

"She might have written it specifically to justify her betrayal in the future—" “Let’s talk about the medical records,” I said, pulling out another paper. “Elena Reyes went to a human hospital three weeks after her first diary entry. The doctor noted she had bruises on both arms that looked like someone had touched her. The report mentioned that she was hesitant to explain how she got hurt.”

“Huh?” Elizabeth laughs. “It’s okay. I don’t really have any plans other than showering and reading a chapter or two from my book.” “Are there zombies in your book?” Edward’s eyes widen. “Actually, yes.” Elizabeth fills her plate and joins us at the table. “It’s a romance set in the zombie apocalypse. It’s really good.” “Can you read it to me?” “When you’re older.” She smiles and then digs into her food. We eat in silence, and I’m a little jealous of the innocent way Edward is completely oblivious to how fucking awkward things are right now.