Just Around The Riverbend Lyrics

After my daughter was seriously injured in a car accident and suffered heavy bleeding, she was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. When it was time to sign the surgical consent form, the nurse suddenly snapped the medical file shut and pressed it down firmly. "Hospital regulations state that only immediate family members can sign the surgical consent form. What proof do you have that you are the child's father?" I was stunned. "She is my biological daughter. Do I still need to prove it to you?" The nurse retorted, "Birth certificates can be forged. How do we know the child wasn't abducted by you? If you cannot prove it, we cannot proceed with the surgery." Seeing the nurse's self-righteous expression, I trembled with anger. "I am signing the surgical consent form for my own biological daughter. Do I need to provide DNA evidence as well?" She curled her lip. "These are hospital regulations. We are being responsible for the patient. If you cannot prove the child is yours, we will report you to the police for child trafficking." After saying that, she actually called security to report it and loudly accused me of being a human trafficker. Report me to the police? I took out my police uniform from my bag and put it on. I'd show her what a split-second response was.

Cleavira Jashein Zarmeda did not grow up like a normal teenager. She was a victim of sexual abuse that made her life miserable and horrific. At her young age, she experienced living with a demon. She already know how cruel this world could be for weak and coward people. Could she free herself from the chain of her past? It is a battle between you will kill or you will be killed. Would she get the justice she deserve or she will just end her sufferings through a demonic escape? Could she surpass the obstacles ahead of her? Cleavira promised to herself that she will not cry again not until she met the guy named, Zachari Aikee Castellar, a carefree genius who's working as a Detective. —Azureriel

My grandfather is hit by a car, and his skull is shattered. I take the driver to court. That's when I find out my husband, Stuart Creed, who was supposedly abroad on a business trip, is suddenly at the hospital. He looks at me coldly and snaps, "Do you have any idea how important Maddy’s valedictorian announcement is? Her future can't be ruined by some car accident! Drop the case right now, or I'll cut off all your credit cards and have your grandfather kicked out of the VIP ward!" He slams the door and storms out. Before that, he snarls, "Come home when you agree. Until then, forget about calling yourself Mrs. Creed!" While I'm out desperately trying to gather money for my grandfather's surgery, a team of lawyers contacts me. Turns out the patent my grandfather once authorized to Creed Group has expired. And now, I'm the new legal owner.

Who knew life could change so quickly and dramatically? Justice finds out the hard way after her father dies tragically and her mother becomes an addict. What she didn't realize, though, was the secret her first love was hiding. She would never have guessed the supernatural wasn't just in fairytales, and hiding would be her new way of life.

"I need you to smile, darling," Adrian whispers, his fingers digging into Isabella's waist as cameras flash. "Your father's business empire depends on it." The champagne in her glass trembles as Isabella forces herself to play the perfect mafia bride. She hasn't told him about the baby yet. Hasn't mentioned the way his eyes linger on the judge's daughter, Elena. Hasn't revealed that she knows about the poison they've planned for her "tragic accident." But Isabella Romano isn't going down without a fight. "Please," she whispers to Santa Muerte as poison burns through her veins. "Give me a chance to make them pay." Death has a price. Isabella awakens in the body of Valentina Salvatore—wife to Adrian's greatest rival and mother to twin girls who somehow see through her deception. She has 150 days to either claim vengeance or find true love. The clock is ticking, and Nicolas Salvatore, her new "husband," is proving dangerously easy to fall for. "You're not really her, are you?" Nicolas murmurs one night, his fingers tracing her jaw. "My Valentina never looked at me the way you do." But as Isabella navigates the deadly waters of rival crime families, she discovers Valentina had secrets of her own—secrets worth dying for. Now, with her father plotting a takeover, Adrian suspicious of her resurrection, and her borrowed body slowly rejecting her soul, Isabella must choose: the revenge she died for, or the love she never expected to find. In this dangerous game of second chances, some fates are worse than death. And some loves are worth dying for twice.

After my granddaughter is bullied by her classmates, the bully's family not only refuses to apologize but behaves arrogantly as well. Since they have connections in the city, the school doesn't dare intervene. I turn to the police, but they only urge me to let it go. The bully's family even boasted that they have people in the court, daring me to sue them. With every path to justice cut off, I have no choice but to take out the two Medals of Honor left behind after my son and daughter-in-law died in service, and kneel at the gates of the military compound. Six years ago, when the general personally delivered those medals to our home, he'd said, "Your son and daughter-in-law gave their lives for the country. They are heroes, martyrs, and the pride of our nation." But now, I want to ask him again. Why is it that when a martyr's daughter is bullied, no one protects her?

After a full week of night shifts, I make a fatal mistake—injecting my son, Ricky Lambert, with phenobarbital, mistaking it for an antibiotic. The injection stops his breathing instantly, and the hospital soon declares him brain-dead. My husband, Terence Lambert, completely falls apart when he hears the news. The only thing that calms him is holding his nephew, Ryan Lambert, who looks so much like Ricky. So, I give up my transfer to Harborstone to Wendy Larson, my brother-in-law's wife. I even agree to adopt her son. Because of that mistake, I work hard and endure Terence's coldness day after day without a word of complaint. Ten years later, when Wendy returns home a success, that's when I accidentally overhear her speaking with Terence. "Back then, to help me get residency at Harborstone, you swapped the medicine and killed your own son. Do you really not regret it?" Terence sneers. "Of course not. I promised I'd help you rise above the rest. And I know Rosalie too well. If she knows there is a chance to go back to Harborstone, she'll fight you for it to the bitter end. "I have to use Ricky's death to trap her for good. It also gives me the perfect excuse to make her raise our son, so you can focus on your career without any burden." I can't believe what I'm hearing. I run out the door and accidentally fall into a raging river. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the very day the hospital declares Ricky dead.

Emily Rosalyn Carter is a female prosecutor who is known to be cold-blooded among criminals and convicts in court. The most severe sentence demands are always the verdicts she submits to the judge so that she is nicknamed the guardian angel of the gates of hell by criminals. However, not many people know that behind Emily's cold attitude, she has many affairs with many men who take turns filling her love diary. Hot romance is Emily's choice to keep herself from losing her humanity when she has to face the cruelty of criminals in court. A hot, tense, and exciting story of the life of a single female prosecutor. Follow Emily's love journey with the men of her choice and the criminal cases she handles at the prosecutor's desk!

On the day Yara Cullen was released from prison, it was raining. A chilly wind carried the drizzle, striking her as the media swarmed the prison gates. "Ms. Cullen, in the Crestwood Estate sexual assault case, your client lost the lawsuit and took her own life six months ago. Her mother is demanding accountability. Do you have anything to say?” "Ms. Cullen, your attorney's license has been revoked, and your mentor was forced to retire. What are your thoughts on this?" No matter how the reporters pressed, Yara kept her head down and pushed forward, forcing her way through the crowd. A black G-Wagon was parked by the roadside, where Westley Langston leaned against the car, smoking a cigarette. Beside him, Elena Cullen tugged at his arm. He turned, glancing toward the prison gates.

Campus food deliveries vanished so often that no one even commented anymore. Then it happened to me again and again. I never identified the thief, but by New Year's Eve I was finished with being an easy mark. I set out a bowl of soup as bait and soaked it with water wrung from an old bathroom mop. I meant to make whoever stole it regret touching my food. A week later, the police did not come for the thief. They came for me. The counselor slid a penalty notice across his desk—600 dollars for food costs and medical fees, due next week. The person who ate my food had been hospitalized for "poisoning." The school was already discussing a major demerit, the cancellation of my first-class scholarship, and the loss of my needs-based stipend. That stipend was the money keeping my sick mother alive. They planned to pin everything on me, shield the real culprit, and bury me under paperwork. Unfortunately for them, they chose the wrong target. I was the law department's resident argument addict, and I intended to turn their dirty little mediation into a public collapse.