My Quiet Book Novels & Stories

I was forced to approach Alveera who was practicing basketball ball when I approached her. "Um....hi" I greeted waiting for her to finish throwing the ball in the net. "Hey there...what are you doing here?" She asked sounding surprised as she picked up the ball. "I came to ask you of something...I need your help " I proclaimed and she stop bouncing the ball for a while. "What's that?" She asked as she resume bouncing the ball. "I actually need some books...but I was not granted access to it" I revealed. "Hmmm, so what are those?" She said aiming for the net.

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to

I have never trusted quiet. Not the gentle kind you get after rain, when the world smells rinsed clean and birds reclaim their arrogance. I mean the kind of quiet that arrives after violence, when people pretend the silence belongs to them and not to whatever is simply waiting its turn. The village had that second kind.

He flipped the light bar off, plunging us back into the grey dimness of the storm. "You're getting good at that," he said, his breathing finally beginning to level out. "At what?" "At the 'Dirty' work," Enzo said. I looked down at the Red Ledger. My knuckles were white where I gripped the leather. I wasn't the "Boring" girl who worked for a tech startup anymore. I was the woman who had just blinded a man so her husband could ram a truck. "It says here... 'The Quiet,'" I read, squinting at the page as a neon sign from a passing liquor store illuminated the text. "What is 'The Quiet'?"

Now on to new adventures and more time with our quiet woman. The End

I needed time. Time to think. Time to understand. Time to figure out who I was before I let anyone else tell me who I was supposed to be. And for now—That was enough. ---- The quiet did not last. At first, it was so subtle that I almost missed it, a faint shift in the stillness of the room that felt more like a thought than a sound. The pages of the book rested open in my hands, my eyes moving over the words, but something had changed. The calm that had settled around me only moments before seemed to tighten, as if the air itself had grown thinner, heavier, carrying something I could not yet see.

Chapter 77 The Shape of a Life There is a particular kind of quiet that settles over a life when it finally starts to belong to you again. I have been trying to name it for weeks, this feeling that lives in the early mornings when I make coffee in my small galley kitchen and hear nothing except the city starting itself up outside my window. It is not loneliness. I know loneliness. I lived inside it for two years in an apartment with twelve dining chairs and floor-to-ceiling views of the river. This is different. This is the quiet of a space that is waiting for what comes next.

Alfred mistook my silence for embarrassment and pitifully offered me a glass of red wine. "Nelson, you've got to get out more. Stop obsessing over women all the time. Check this out. This bottle's on the house. Thirty thousand dollars a pop, reserved only for the big shots like us. This one bottle could easily pay your rent for the next few years. Here, try some," he said, handing me a glass.

Some words were meant to fade, not stay. Later that night, he went for a walk along the boardwalk. A small bookstore had left its lights on, so he stepped inside. It was quiet only the faint sound of pages turning. He ran his fingers along the spines until he found it her book. “The Quiet Between Us.” He’d read it before publication, but seeing it here, on a shelf, felt different. Realer. He opened to the dedication page. “For the ones who taught me how to leave and the one who taught me how to stay.”

The unmistakable sounds of lovemaking filled the air. Don froze, his face going pale as he turned toward Fiona in disbelief. The guy clapped his hands. "If you all wanna see the uncensored video, scan the code and join the group chat! It's free!" One of his goons held up a big piece of paper with a giant QR code printed on it. The crowd rushed over immediately. Within minutes, a bunch of young guys were squatting on the ground, grinning as they watched the video on their phones. The moans and gasps echoed through the crowd, making Fiona's face flush a deep red.