Requiem For A Loud Mga Nobela at Kwento

My expression was calm, but my shaking voice said otherwise. I had never imagined that Sean would leave me to endure that humiliating, painful period alone over something so absurd. That wedding was the biggest regret of my life.

Megs answer him. "Do you know about the story of the quint and old piano that my son, Mr. Gonzales Nike Drion owned?" I heard the old woman's voice again. Wait—! "Deku! Did you heard a piano? A piano?!" I asked him and run towards him to make him notice me! "I heard a beautiful rhythm of piano..." he suddenly closed his eyes as if he was really watching someone's playing that piano! "Wait! Wait! Deku! Open your eyes! Cover your ears! Don't listen to it!" I tried to punched him over and over! But his eyes we're already closed and he didn't even fight me back!

The headline reads: *Family and friends gather to honor missing heiress Rose Alexander. I watch Ryan stand at a podium in a dark suit. His face is arranged into something that looks like grief if you don't know him. Behind him, Selena in black, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. My memorial service. It's already scheduled. I watch Ryan grip the podium and say my name like it costs him something and I feel nothing. Not pain. Not even anger right now. Just clarity. *Good.* Let them bury me. Let them divide everything up and make their speeches and think they won.

The arrival of the radio crew felt like a colonial invasion of Tobi’s sanctuary. Nike, the correspondent, was a whirlwind of "Electric Indigo" energy, her bangles clattering like rhythmic gunfire as she directed her sound engineer. The neighborhood had gathered in a tight, expectant semicircle, their whispers creating a low frequency hum that made the air feel thick.

Roman, the Don of the Jackson family for years, had stepped down, but his bankroll was nothing to sneeze at. The paper spelled it out: he was handing his entire stash over to me, no strings attached. Clutching that document, I was a whirlwind of emotions. However, before I could even wrap my head around it, a thunderous boom erupted from downstairs, and in a flash, the night sky was ablaze. I had no idea who messed up, but suddenly there was this massive boom, and the air turned foul with the stench of gas. I freaked out, snatched up my most precious stuff, and bolted for the stairs.

And Palermo learned that sometimes the loudest celebrations were the sound of a city being strangled. The quiet war was about to turn very, very loud.

Be good and it will all be alright. Liam was the same way. It was always worse when he was quiet. When the man was loud and boisterous, the most she had to worry about was his insults or sexual comments. Loud Liam, talkative Liam, those were him in a good mood. There was nothing that man loved more than hearing the sound of his own voice. Quiet Liam was dangerous. Quiet Liam meant pack your bags and book a hotel for the next few days. It meant schedule work so you have an excuse to not be home with him. It meant run.

He wasn't able to finish his word as the flashes of camera distracted him. "Good evening people of the United Arab Emirates, tonight we are here inside one of the headquarters in Dubai and exclusively reporting the biggest news that the people of this country are dying to hear, right beside me is a guy named Skye who is the only son of the late Mr. Forbes. We will try to--"

At that moment, Phoebe panicked and tried to snatch Dad's phone, shouting, "Dad! Don't look!" But it was too late, and Dad's eyes widened suddenly. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Immediately after, his secretary's urgent voice sounded. "Mr. Chapman, the signal source is coming from these bones. Initial speculation suggests these might… They might be Mr. Zack's bones!"

“I’m ready.” With that, Ryder pressed a series of buttons on the control panel, and the heavy security doors slid open with a mechanical hiss. The room beyond was dimly lit, the shelves filled with thick binders and electronic terminals that hummed with activity. Eva stepped inside, her eyes immediately scanning the room. It wasn’t just the physical files they needed; it was the data. The heart of Project Requiem was buried in these walls—somewhere. She could feel it, just beneath the surface.