Novel & Cerita It's Been So Long By The Living Tombstone

The final item, scrawled hastily in the manager’s neat, hateful hand, was unusual: "Clean and reorganize the Sub-Level Wine Cellar. Immediately." The wine cellar was a ghost space, unused since the family finished their last big political fundraiser. It was cold, dark, and utterly isolated , exactly the kind of place where a Grant could afford to lose his composure. My heart hammered with a terrible clarity. It wasn't Mr. Harrison who wanted the cellar clean. It was Ethan.

"Caleb, I mean it. Don't drag my name into this mess again. I can't keep showing up just to watch people laugh at you—and at me." After my parents died in a car accident six years ago, Linda became one of my few remaining family members. She used to pity me. She used to defend me. But after watching me turn myself into a public joke again and again, even she had finally reached her limit. And honestly, so had I. After the last guest left and the ballroom was nearly empty, I stayed behind to clean up the mess. A server walked over carrying a black trash bag. "Mr. Hayes," he said carefully, "I couldn't find a bag that fit, so I had to put all the letters in here."

Donovan sighed and continued playing the victim. "I know we were wrong before. We didn't think things through when we spoke and acted. For Mom's sake, and for Maya's sake, since she's just a kid, could you give us a little more time? "Once my mom feels better and we find a suitable place, we'll move out for sure. We absolutely won't overstay our welcome!" Sloane quickly added, "Right, right. Graham, it was my fault before. I apologize. Please be the bigger person and don't hold it against us. We promise we won't bother you anymore. We'll just live here quietly. Is that okay?"

" Behind us, Jody's heart-wrenching sobs filled the air. I pushed down the last bit of pain in my chest and walked into the sunset. Chloe, from now on... Daddy is going to live a good life for you in this world. The End

Moonlight washed the flagstones of the Montclair estate in pale, cold light. By the time I arrived at the chapel with my people, Vivienne was already there, directing two servants to pry open the coffin. Dr. Pemberton stood off to the side with his medical case. He was silver-haired and ruddy-cheeked, looking as though none of this had anything to do with him. "Faster! Hurry up!" Vivienne hissed, keeping her voice low but unable to mask the desperation in it. "Any longer and that vile woman is going to get my son killed!"

The first time I went to the boutique to try on wedding dresses, I stumbled upon the staff playing their game of “Guess the Bride.” The big screen inside was displaying the package my fiancé had reserved. Eager to snag the commission, the makeup artist spoke up first: “I remember the bride is petite and delicate. She looks absolutely stunning in a mermaid dress.” The photographer chime in: “She has straight bangs and two dimples when she smiles.” “Oh, right—and a red mole on her collarbone. She looks best in an off-shoulder gown.” I froze right on the spot. I had waist-length, voluminous waves, no dimples, and certainly no mole. The person they were describing fit my best friend—Charlotte Ho

"This piece has incredible value! Your grandmother's birthday is the day after tomorrow. This would be perfect as a gift for her!" Jaycie, who had glanced up at the sculpture when Castiel's name was mentioned, quickly looked away. Her voice was calm but carried a weight that seemed to douse Eileen's excitement. "It's a fake." Eileen stared at her, disbelief written all over her face. She was about to snap back with something like, "What would you know, you country bumpkin?" But with Cole sitting right there, she forced a polite smile instead. "And how would you know that, Ms. Stanton?"

The sound of a man who knew exactly how much a secret was worth. “You took your time,” the voice said. Marrow. Hearing him was like feeling an old scar start to ache again. “I had to make sure you weren't a trap,” I said, my voice like iron. “Dead men don't usually send signals.” There was a short, dry sound that might have been a laugh. “In Black Tide,” Marrow said, “it’s the dead men who usually live the longest.” I leaned back, my eyes fixed on the screen even though there was no face to see. Marrow never showed himself, he was a shadow among shadows.

The sound surprised both of them. It felt strange laughing here. Almost sacred. Then she noticed something beneath the roots. Her smile disappeared. “There.” Moises followed her gaze. A section of earth near the oldest root looked disturbed. He crouched. Miyaka knelt beside him. Together, they cleared away the wet soil. Something hard struck Moises's fingers. He brushed away the dirt. Wood. An old wooden box. Miyaka stopped breathing. Neither of them touched it for several seconds. She remembered.

He walked up to where she stood and stared at the tombstone before them. “Steve.” “Who the fuck is Steve and why are we staring at his grave right now?” “I have a feeling he has something to do with Mork’s disappearance,” Chloe frowned. “Calistè told us to check all the graves around here and this is the only weird one we’ve seen up till now.” “And what makes this grave weird?” Syke asked staring at her. “Look at it,” Chloe pointed. “The sand around is fresh. It’s just been recently dug up. Mork was here a few hours ago, or a few days at most. This is why Calistè sent us here.”