Novel & Cerita Memoir Audiobook

Her mind paved the way for different thoughts that made her feel she was a bad person. She closed her eyes and took in a deep, long breath. She released the breath and opened her eyes, motivating herself. “Everything is fine,” She remembered Malachi’s words, and a smile found its way to display on her face. “I am a good person. My smile glitters people’s lives. I should continue to be generous…” She cracked up and suddenly burst into a laughter that lasted for a minute. After she stopped laughing, she wondered what was wrong that would warrant such laughter, but she couldn’t give herself an answer.

Rose Murdock's POV By the time I came back to my senses and quickly hung up the phone, I had already heard more than enough. There was a sheet of paper lying on the carpet. I picked it up—it was a medical report. The diagnosis read end-stage heart failure. In the patient column, the name written there was Adrian Sanders, the same one I had just heard on the phone. That was when I remembered the recent news regarding the leader of the pack's most powerful mercenary corps, Orion. He had suddenly announced that he would hand over his authority to his deputy.

If the past was anywhere, it would be there. Then one random audio file caught my eye. It was hours long, I didn’t remember recording it at all. My finger hovered for a second before I pressed play. As the audio filled the room, my breath hitched. I recognized my own voice and then his. That’s when it hit me, I had recorded my last day with Bryain. I sat frozen, listening as everything unfolded. The laughter. The quiet moments and then the part that made my chest tighten—the moment my memories were taken from me.

"You're breaking our ears!" The room went dead silent as they stared at the camera again. Grandfather turned to his microphone and spoke quietly. "Can you hear me?" Thank God, I could hear his voice! Somehow, it actually translated to my computer mind as his voice, not just words in a data stream. "Your memories of his voice are automatically converting from what comes through the microphone into what you remember of his voice," Mirele told me as she examined a few other files. "We're not paying a bit of attention to our bodies, but they're still there, and the wiring was designed to convince our brains to translate things in ways that we would understand."

"Because once the memory extractor starts, the high-frequency pulses will make every bone in your body feel like it has been crushed a thousand times over. After that, you will not get another chance to explain yourself." My face went white. I thrashed against the hands holding me. "Claire, no! "You cannot extract my memories!" Claire seized my wrist, her teeth clenched. "Now you're afraid? "Too bad. "I have to get justice for Lily." Tears blurred my vision. "Claire, please listen to me. My memories cannot be shown. You will regret this." Claire laughed once, sharp and bitter. Her eyes were bloodshot when she leaned closer. "Regret?

"OK!" Breakfast was fast today, fresh snow had fallen during the night and everyone wanted to hit the slopes first. Nobody noticed that Hannah was missing. Alissa already had everything ready an hour after breakfast, she sat on the sofa in the living room and took the remote control. But there was just nothing decent on TV and she turned it off after a few minutes. She went to the bookshelf and took out a novel, the title sounded promising and so she decided to take it with her room and read it comfortably in her bed. In the past few months she had read a great many books; she had had nothing else to do. She shook the thought away and opened the door to her room on the second floor. She thre

And, if it wasn't just my imagination, the voice I remembered from a little memory that crossed my mind earlier sounded similar to his voice. Or perhaps my mind is playing tricks on me. I've heard many voices in the last two years, but when it comes to that man, I only hear a familiar voice. I'm not sure. I'm completely perplexed. I can't think clearly. Something in me is driven to learn everything I can about my past. To discover who I truly am.

"We're the Sullivans, and one of us might marry Summer someday. You’d better watch out, or you might lose your jobs!" I heard him and laughed, but I was really mad. "Acting all high and mighty in front of my hospital room? I don't even know you guys. Why would I marry any one of you?" Nelson ran up to me, trying to grab my hand, but I pulled away. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying a lot. "Summer, I talked to the doctor. He said you might have lost your memory because of the surgery. "It's okay. If you forgot us, we'll make new, happy memories together. It'll be our way of making things right, okay?"

His voice shook as he said, “She’s really lost her memory? Why would God punish me like this? She’s my only daughter. I never even had the chance to make things right.” Then he broke down crying. I had never seen a grown man sob like that before. It was almost funny. But at the same time, it made my stomach turn. Whoever they were, the way they cried disgusted me. It was strange. Why did I feel that way? They looked so heartbroken. I couldn’t figure it out. The man kept weeping as he pulled out his phone. “Mr. Wilson, Lily really has amnesia. You have to find a way to help her remember us. She’s my only child.”

Sophie. Morning. Hope you survived the gala and Carter’s temper. Sending you some links—audio books and podcasts. Not just Pilates, but history, politics, even Austen. You don’t need paper to learn, Amber. There are other ways. The words doubled and slid. I could read, I always could, but when nerves were bad the letters fought me, mocking. I tapped the text-to-speech icon. The phone’s voice was flat, but at least it didn’t laugh when my brain twisted words. Wellness. Pilates basics. U.S. history. Austen. Relief spread through me so fast I almost laughed.