Lincoln Burrows Novels & Stories

Ichabod winked at her and then stood up, he walked further away from Tracey who laughed as he talked to himself. “Odin, I need your help.” Silence... “Odin, I mean it, please, you need to help.” Silence... “Well, I can only assume that your silence means a yes.” He said, spotting a sharp pin lying on the floor. Quickly, he picked it up. Then he turned around, “come on, let’s go.” “So what did your beast say?” Tracy asked excitedly. “Oh, he’s sleeping, I will wake him up soon.” He said, putting the pin in his pocket, “a sharp pain will do the trick.”

His eyes were red-rimmed as he answered raspily, "Two years and eleven months. That's how long I've spent looking for you, and it finally led me somewhere! Have you been alright?" I smiled. "Yes. You, however, don't seem to be." He was sporting a stubble, and his eyes were sunken. Although he was only 28, there were already streaks of gray on his head. Timothy hung his head low. His voice was filled with defeat. "I no longer had the mind to focus on work after you left. There's no unity in the company, and it'll be bankrupt soon. "I didn't believe for a second that you'd died, so I searched high and low for you. It's been two years and then some since. I only found out you were here when I s

“Oh, wow. That’s so crazy. Gosh, my head hurts already. I don’t want to think about anything.” “It’s okay, I understand,” June nodded. “I’m sure the reason he kidnapped Luke was because he knew Luke knew everything you knew.” Elena sighed. “He’ll be fine, right?” “I’m sorry. I can’t promise you anything,” June replied, her gaze shifting from Elena. “Conor is scarier than you could ever imagine. He has no human feelings whatsoever. I mean, look at us, both tied up here without even knowing where or-” “Shh,” Elena cut June off. “I hear footsteps.”

Marcus found him in four hours. Not a complicated trace — Castor Lyne was at the adjacent territory property. He had been there the entire time. He had not moved from it despite the preliminary ruling naming him, despite the council enforcement team being dispatched to the border address, despite the network's operational structure being comprehensively documented in the High Council's record. He had stayed. In the adjacent property. Six weeks before the assassination it had been a forward position for an operation. Now it was just a house near the boundary where a seventy-year-old man had been sitting while the case built against him.

After three days of asking around, we finally got a lead from a teenager. Tom was most likely hanging around a homeless encampment on the outskirts of the city. The place reeked of filth. Piles of scrap were scattered everywhere. Several ragged figures were curled up inside broken tents. We searched for a long time before finally finding him. When Sophia and Sebastian saw the man with a filthy face, scraggly beard, and a long knife scar across his cheek, they were completely stunned. "Y-you… are you Tom?" The man lifted his head. His cloudy eyes sized up the man and woman in front of him. Irritated, he waved them off. "You know who I am, so why the hell are you still standing there? Looking

Astor muttered, his jaw tight enough to shatter teeth. He'd paid Caruso well over the years. Hundreds of thousands of dollars to be his cleaner. His problem solver. The man who made inconvenient people disappear. And now Caruso was going to bury him. His phone rang. The ringtone he'd assigned to his lawyer. Astor grabbed it. "Lincoln." "Have you seen the news?" Barrister Lincoln's voice was strained. Panicked in a way Astor had never heard before. "Tell me you've seen the news."

Forgive me just this once! I said softly, "Now your whole family is going to prison, and the Hayes family line ends here. "How does that taste?" I laughed. As I laughed, tears fell. My mother hugged me. She sobbed until she could barely breathe. After the crowd slowly dispersed, Maya walked over to me. She punched me lightly. "You did that on purpose. You used me." I smiled and hugged her. "Yes. I did it on purpose. "Because I don't have that many connections. You have a broader network. You specialize in deep investigative reporting, and you have more experience than I do.

The moment I got back to my apartment, I filled the bathtub and soaked myself in hot water, trying to wash away every memory of the previous night. Including him. Once the alcohol was out of my system, reality came crashing back hard. Rent was almost due. No job too, courtesy of Luke. Every rejection email that filled my inbox felt like a fresh reminder that walking away from that company wasn’t really a good idea. And my savings were bleeding out slowly. Weeks passed in a blur of job applications and rejection emails. Just when I was beginning to lose hope, an interview invitation landed in my inbox. I nearly screamed my apartment down, for the first time in weeks I felt hopeful.

“She’s just… strange.” “Strange is good for you.” Lila pops the lollipop back in her mouth. “What did she say? Did she read your palm? Offer you tea laced with moon dust?” “She asked me why I was afraid of my own softness.” That makes her pause. Even the lollipop lowers a bit. “Huh.” I shrug. “It’s not that deep.” But it is. Later, I’m alone again, standing near the ridge that overlooks the lake. I twist the engagement ring on my finger without thinking. The silver catches the last light of day, the carved words on the band barely visible: Where the moon pulls, the heart follows.

Because if I did— And he wasn’t real— “I saw you,” I said, my voice trembling despite everything. “I saw—” My throat tightened. “I buried you.” The words hung between us. He didn’t react the way I expected. No denial. No confusion. Just… Understanding. “I know,” he said quietly. My chest tightened. “You’re dead,” I whispered. The word felt wrong even as I said it. Because he didn’t look dead. Didn’t feel like absence. He felt like—