Know The Only Truth Book Review Novels & Stories

“You do take after your mother afterall.” “Now, tell me, what do you wish to achieve with these?” He asks me. “I just want the truth to win.” I reply without flinching. “The truth?” He scoffs. “The truth is the story of the winning side.” He tells me. “You're wrong Alpha, the truth is the truth and should not be controlled by anyone or any small group of evil people.”

Feeling like you going to get married by tomorrow, it's powerful and amazing that it can't be compared to anything I guess. Well...I'm personally attracted by honesty, truthfulness, an open soul cause I'm open as hell! It runs in me, doesn't matter what it's about but I am, not going to lie about that and as soon as this book is on the market, my close people will agree on that note. Honesty makes life easier you know, very easy! Honesty can make you realize whatever you stress about that you shouldn't! Its actually a minor things, and that could make you feel better, knowing you aren't the only.one with that particular issue, it really feels great like " Oww really? I thought I was the only

And when she finally spoke, her steadiness was a bit discomforting. “Jane… sometimes the truth doesn’t break us. It only shows that we’ve been living broken all along, and it gives us the opportunity to shape ourselves into something whole.” I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that uncovering the truth about my mother, about HAB, about Nathan, about Julia, about all of it, would give me wholeness instead of dragging me down to my knees. But the fear inside me whispered otherwise. Back to the Present I opened my eyes at my desk and drew in a deep breath.

“He cooked the books.” “You don’t know that yet.” “I do.” “You can’t run a company on instinct alone.” “I don’t. I run it on precision. Not manipulation.” A pause. “Make sure you have evidence to avoid lawsuits.” He hung up. No goodbye. Typical. I pushed Tanya’s file aside and looked at the reports on my desk, the sticky note she left grouping the pages, her handwriting glaring at me. Her tired eyes flashed in my mind. She looked like she hadn’t slept.

I'm sorry you're in a world where being right about this is something to be afraid of. But you're stronger than you know. You always have been. Even when you didn't believe it Find the truth. Not for me. For yourself. You deserve to know. I stopped reading Sat with it. The final page. Tucked between it and the notebook's back cover.... something small, flat, the kind of thing that would go unnoticed if you'd been skimming rather than reading carefully. A key.

“You just don’t want to admit it.” I shook my head again, frustration building. “You keep talking like there’s only one right side.” “There is.” “And it’s yours?” “Yes.” The certainty in his voice made something twist in my chest. Not because I believed him. But because he believed himself. Completely. And that made everything harder. I looked away for a second, pressing my lips together before looking back at him. “That’s not how truth works.” “It is when you’ve already seen the outcome.” “And what about the parts you didn’t see?” I asked. “The parts you don’t know?”

He turned his gaze to me then, his eyes bright with unshed tears, and I saw the same kindness I had seen in photos of my parents. “Your mother once told me that the strongest signal is not the one that carries the most data. It is the one that carries the most truth. And truth is never just one thing. It is always two sides fitting together, even when they are not exactly the same, even when they do not fit neatly into the boxes we try to build for them.”

He was telling me I was alone here. He was reminding me that I was a village girl in a palace full of creatures that could end me and that the only thing standing between me and that outcome was the continued goodwill of people who had no particular reason to extend it. He was doing all of this with a smile that had not shifted a degree. I looked at him across the table and thought about the hidden book and the woman who had written it alone at the end of everything and what she had said about the flame responding to truth.

The particular quality of a person who has received confirmation of something they needed to know and can now proceed. "Can I ask you something about writing?" he said. "Yes," she said. "How do you know when something is true?" he said. "Not factually true — I mean true in the way your book is true. When you're writing something that isn't real, that is made up, how do you know if it's true in the way that matters?" She thought about this seriously.

I want to keep that part of me concealed, but she looked persistent to squeeze a response from me. “I don’t know…” I lied. “I know and I can feel that you know it. You just don’t want to admit it,” she pointed out which only muted me and made me swallow all of my rebuttals. “You see? There are truths you cannot say, and I also have my fair share of the same thing, so don’t push me to answer questions like that. Let’s go. They might have been waiting for the both of us there. Do not forget to lock the door when you leave.”