Still Waters Run Deep Book Novels & Stories

I whispered to them They crackled softly, and for the first time, I thought maybe… they didn’t know the answer either --- Later, while the others slept, I walked to the river The water was dark and unmoving. No moonlight reached its surface, though the sky was clear I knelt beside it and let my fingertips skim the edge Cold Still Then— A flicker Not of fire Of shadow It moved beneath the water’s surface like ink spilled in silence I yanked my hand back The shadow didn’t follow It simply watched And then it spoke—not aloud, but in the place between heartbeats You were never meant to carry only one flame

Leon's voice came through clearly, "Old man, you've lived long enough. Your weak heart can't take another shock. What if I told you Jordan is a boy toy? Is your poor heart taking it well? "Jolene is the real victim here, yet he keeps clinging to her like a leech." Then, my grandfather's furious response followed as he used all his strength to slap Leon. However, Jolene still looked confused even after hearing the recording. She instinctively tried to defend Leon, "No. The recording must be fake." God, she was a lost cause. So, I drawled, "Then, you should tell that to the police."

The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs, Upon the slimy sea. About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue and white. And some in dreams assurèd were Of the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep, he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.

They wanted the shiny, resilient version of Fallon who rose from the ashes with glossy skin and a skincare routine. But I wasn’t ready to rise. Not yet. First, I needed to rest. First, I needed to feel everything I’d been running from. Some nights, I took out the book Reid gave me years ago—The Art of Stillness. I didn’t read it. I just ran my hand across the note he’d written on the inside flap: In case you forget how to stop. He never forgot how to stop. He just forgot how to stay. I placed the book back on the shelf—top corner, spine out. Like it was watching over the room but no longer running it.

The cover of the third book was a silent declaration of victory. Where the previous ones had carried dark and uncertain tones, this one displayed a watercolor in golds and deep blues—colors that evoked sunrises over the ocean, promises kept, and horizons that had finally revealed themselves within reach. The title, engraved in handwritten letters like an intimate confession, was simple and revolutionary: “To Live.”

Far far away. The door snapped open and Justin rushed in. He coughed at the steam quickly opening the window. The cold air brushed my skin and I shivered. All I could picture was Damion. Pulling me into his room. What a bastard. Justin looked at me before crouched beside me “Val come on even for you this is sad.” I bit my lip to keep it from wobbling and showing just how broken I was inside. This was hell. I was living in hell.

“But if you think too much, you’ll forget to breathe. Neither one looks good on you.” I gave a thin smile. “You sound like Zach.” Gia snorted. “If I start brooding in the corner with a glass of whiskey, shoot me.” I almost laughed — almost — but my gaze drifted to the stretch of courtyard being hosed down. The water ran red for a few seconds before fading to pale pink. “This doesn’t end,” I murmured. “No,” she agreed, softer now. “It doesn’t. But that’s what keeps us alive. Movement. Fighting. Choosing not to stop.”

“What I feel for you is new to me Cassie. Terrifying yes, but it’s real.” The words stole her breath again. She placed her hand in his, fingers curling tight. Relief and hurt still tangled, but the hurt was quieter now. “I’m not running,” she whispered. “But I need time to believe I’m not just the newest chapter.” “You’re not.” He lifted her hand, pressed his lips to her knuckles. “You’re the whole damn book.” She let out a shaky laugh through tears. He drew her forward until their foreheads touched, breathing each other in while the lake glittered beyond the glass and the villa held them close. The coffee had cooled and tea forgotten, but the storm inside had finally cooled.

I looked right at the camera and enunciated each word. "I am Josh Zeller, and I stole all my work and games over the years from Wayne Chapman. "I'm a total loser!" … Jessica's eyes showed she was moved, and she reached out to pull me up. "That's enough. Get the doctor back over there now!" In a flash, Wayne grabbed his head and fell toward her. "Ms. Stewart, my head is killing me. I think I really hurt myself.