Hidden Soldier Novel Novels & Stories

When everything exploded, she and her beloved husband, watching as the soldiers approached, decided to leave quietly without the others noticing and set out on their way to try to divert them from the camps as much as they could. ... Before leaving, she took the book and secretly took it away to hide it in a nearby cave away from everyone's sight, a book of which nothing is known even today. ... And so without caring much more having fulfilled his mission in case of failure those began their fight against the soldiers, the husband fell dejected not long after after a few bullets finally take his life. ...Now her story took a different direction...

Simple and final. “Good,” he whispered, and I could see the shift in him—the soldier emerging beneath the scholar. “Then we begin at dawn.” He turned to go, cloak swirling behind him like ink spilled in moonlight. But I stopped him with a raised hand, the motion swift and decisive. He paused, brows furrowing in quiet question. I didn’t speak—I didn’t need to. I reached into the drawer, the one I had hidden beneath layers of old gowns and ruined letters, and pulled out the journal. The one where every scream I couldn’t voice had found a home. Every betrayal. Every memory they tried to erase. Every truth they tried to bury.

He covered Christy's with his body as he saw another man take a gun from his waist. Christy was startled she saw on the side of the car something that was not there before. A hole! The other guy from the other side was shooting with a silenced gun. She was sure, but these kinds of scenes were only seen in movies. Is she in the middle of a shooting? The shooting of a film? " We have to run quickly! Go behind the car, the guy who came to cover her said something for the first time. " What is going on?" Christy tried to find out if these things were happening for real.

Angel didn’t mind backing down when she knew it was in her best interest to know what these people knew. Hunter was flabbergasted he asked more calmly “Can someone tell me what is going on?” Michael simply handed him the piece of paper, they watched as all the color drained from Hunter’s face and he stared in stunned disbelief at Angel. When the letter had been passed around to everyone in the room who had just arrived. Michael spoke saying “It appears that Stacia wasn’t off with her friend that summer, she’d gone into hiding to give birth to her daughter. Whom she then gave to someone.”

Nine remained. And one of them? Was crossed out by someone else. LOCATION: EDGE OF THE OLD CITY – ABANDONED LIBRARY TIME: 8:33 a.m. The books here were rotting. Histories no one wanted. Bloodlines no one respected. Solene moved through them like a shadow without a past because the stories left inside these walls were the kind that erased people like her. She knelt in the back corner. Pulled a volume from the stone shelf. Dust covered the title:

I woke her up, noticing strange marks on her exposed skin—marks that were identical to the ones on Rylee. Nydia seemed to realize what I had noticed and quickly tried to cover herself up. I pretended not to see anything, instead telling her about the class reunion. Her expression shifted, visibly anxious. I didn't say anything else. I walked into the study and checked my phone. As expected, after I had left, a man wearing a mask entered the room. He moved furtively, carrying a toolbox. Nydia obediently approached him, and what followed was disturbing; the sounds of their interaction were not something I could bear to hear.

Every flickering torch along the manor’s outer walls cast long, trembling silhouettes—ghosts of a place caught between despair and defiance. Deep beneath that fortress of fractured loyalties and simmering war, Lena lay curled upon the cold stone floor. The faint swell of new life beneath her hands was a fierce talisman against the darkness. The whispers she'd caught through the walls had evolved from distant hope to a palpable promise—a promise that rescue was coming.

“Not the truth about Sarah. Not what it means for Colette. Not what we’re supposed to do with any of this now that we finally have it.” I held him in the quiet hallway, no easy answers available for either of us, the weight of thirty years of buried cowardice and grief finally, fully exposed. Somewhere out there, Colette was still moving forward with whatever remained of her plans, unaware, for now, that the one secret she’d protected above all others had finally found its way into the hands of the people she’d spent thirty years trying to stop.

"But the dead deserve dignity. We should cremate it quickly. We can't let some unclaimed body delay your generous gift to me. I'd feel terrible." Just then, Kip arrived. He tenderly brushed sweat from Jen's temple, his sigh heavy with adoration. "You're too compassionate, Jen. After everything you sacrificed—the self-experimentation, the pain—you still defend deserters. It hurts to see." My brother, mirroring Kip's heartache, was about to agree when a construction worker yelled, "Hey! What's that shining in there?" All eyes pivoted. A cold, metallic glint winked from within my decayed rib cage.

Christabel was nervous, of course, she knew Daniel would not harm her but again humans are wicked. Was it even right for her to think like that? Daniel gave Christabel a long comforting smile. Facing a lot of people unplanned was a sure way to made one get nervous. "Is it true that Williams Christabel is a spy?" A female journalist asked uncapping and capping the Lucky biro she held firmly. "Is it true that she ran over Miss Lawrence Precious and pretended to be a witness?" Another journalist asked pinching his lips in curiosity. "According to an employee, Miss Christabel was next to Miss Precious when she died." Said a male journalist while glancing at his laptop.