Nadya Bratt Novels & Stories

Millions of lives. Lucas whispered: “They were already living.” Nobody answered. There was nothing useful to say. The first woman—the one who had asked whether they got a tomorrow—stood at the edge of the fracture. She looked maybe thirty-five. Dark curls. A scar through one eyebrow. A faded red sweater. Behind her, a city stretched toward a silver coastline. “My name is Nadiya Sol.” Elias looked at her carefully. “You know who you are?” “Yes.” “Do the others?”

Nadia has nothing except a five year old son and a secret she has been keeping for years. When Ezra shows up at her door she isn't surprised. She's just tired. He came for answers. She has none that will satisfy him. And caught in the middle is a little boy who deserves better than what's coming.

At least for a while, I don't think about office matters. An hour later, Nadya arrived at the hospital. "So what's wrong with Fransisca?" Nadya asked. “She has a tumor on the back of her neck. And now she is having surgery. Please look after Bobby for a moment! I want to go to the bathroom first." Nadya suddenly hugged me instead of following my instructions. “Let go! I want to go to the bathroom." "No. I miss you. I want us to have sex now!”

Nadia still felt uneasy, but Jeff smiled and said to her, "I hope that after you come back this time, you'll truly consider me. I'll become an outstanding man when you're away. Just wait and see." "Okay, I'll wait!" With that, Nadia embarked on her journey to the Nordanic countries. As she said, when she returned from the Nordanic countries this time, she would become a new Nadia, her own queen. Meanwhile, Freya had finally given birth to a chubby little boy. Moreover, the child's paternity had also been confirmed. When the news spread, countless people rushed to the Garrisons to congratulate them, including Danny—Emilia's grandfather.