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again! "Mike i'm so sorry you went through all that, but you did the right thing, although the other solution would have been to wait for her til she became of age but would that have happened, only god knows so yeah....a tragic love story it is!" And I nod in agreement. "But may I ask....why do you tell the whole story?" I sigh deep while taking her hands in mine and look her into her eyes. "Because I'm afraid it will happen again Jessica but then with you!" I say and she looks a tiny bit confused.

Photographs covered the walls portraits of strangers caught mid-smile, moments of stillness, and little stories told without words. “Wow,” I breathed. “It’s beautiful.” Ethan shrugged lightly. “It’s just life through a lens.” He motioned toward a chair near the window. “Sit. Want coffee? Or tea?” “Coffee’s fine,” I said, and he disappeared for a moment, returning with two steaming cups. When I took the first sip, he leaned against the table across from me and asked, “So, how’s your story going now?” I smiled. “Better, actually. The words are finally moving again.”

Half a month later, in the middle of the night, my phone buzzed with a message. It was from Lex. [Audrey, I'm sorry.] I stared at it for a moment, then put the phone down. I didn't reply. Our story had ended long ago. I closed that chapter. From now on, our lives will go their own way—like two roads that'll never cross again.

At first, I found it funny—how could a grown adult get stuck under a bed? But after gently trying to move, I found that the more I struggled, the tighter I was stuck. My arm was pressed under my body, and I could not use any strength at all. I immediately took out my phone and called Shen Zeyan, but he was in an important high-level project meeting. The call was hung up, and he only sent a short message: In a meeting. Contact you later.

My name was Lola Sinclair, a young wife from a small farming town. My husband, Dominic DeLuca, used to work at a construction site. He was honest, hardworking, and willing to take any job as long as it could keep our family fed. We had two children, a modest home, and a life that was never rich but still peaceful. Then everything changed. Dominic fell from a height at the construction site and badly injured his leg. The contractor responsible disappeared soon afterward, leaving us without compensation. Instead of receiving help, we were forced to cover nearly one hundred thousand dollars in medical expenses ourselves.

Joshua Lawson, my old college buddy, had become a private eye. "Dig up some dirt for me on Yoel. While you're at it, get the scoop on him and Sheila in Francoria since three years ago, the nitty-gritty, the more the better. Oh, and check if there's any record of Sheila having an abortion at any local hospitals." I hung up and stared into the harsh daylight, an emptiness settling in my chest. 'Sheila, I’ve given you more chances than I can count. If this is how it is, then all we've got left is the final showdown,' I thought to myself.

Some stories weren’t meant to end. They just waited until after hours to start again.

she asked, clearly bracing for the worst. “Yes,” I said. “But later. As a treat.” Naomi groaned theatrically. “You lied,” she hissed. “We’ll start with stories,” I said. “Real ones. Some might be scary in parts. Some might be sad. But we’re telling them so you know where you come from. So no one can tell you lies and make you afraid on purpose.” I took a breath. “Who’s heard of the curse?” I asked. Almost every hand went up.