Story Of Us Books 소설 & 이야기

ANNA POV. Days later. The knock on the study door was firm, urgent—but not frantic. I lost a family and found another. I looked up from the small pile of books I had been flipping through, my heart already sensing the shift before the words even came. Jace stood and opened it. Two officers stepped in—Italian, but one was accompanied by a U.S. consulate official, sharp in a blue suit with the calm tone of someone trained to deliver life-altering news without flinching.

"What do you know about it?" Jace leans back in his seat. "All I know is the girl won some pageantry shit. She was supposedly beautiful, that's why she caught a lot of attention. Personally, I couldn't give two shits about what a little girl looks like. Unfortunately, her fame led to her rape and murder. The news of her death filled all the news outlets here and ran the whole year. That must be because it's the most interesting thing that has ever happened here since Raul caught a big ass fish," he snorts, taking a long drag of the cigarette. "Roman believed there's more to the story."

Maybe her writing Nick a hundred page letter about why he should divorce me. "Oh," I said after seeing that it was just a book on the inside of the large box. I looked at the cover. "How to raise kids?" I read. "Hmm, yeah. Anyway." Nick took it from my hand to place it inside the grill. "Look, it's flammable." Nobody said anything. Nick raised his almost empty beer bottle. "Here's to a happy life, a healthy family and a brighter future." He said. I raised my bottle of apple juice. ’’Here’s to that.’’

Sadly it was hard to concentrate when I heard his deep voice again. "When I first touched a book, I was convinced that no one else in the world knew what I was going through. That for some odd reason I was the only one who had been subjected to a terrible childhood. A bit stupid- I know," he chuckled," but once I read certain stories, became acquainted with characters to the point I drew images of them in my head. I learnt that if anything I wasn't alone . . . somewhere out there, someone else can relate to me."

Book 1 - I'm A Curse. Volume - 0 X - xperiment X - xpect X - xperience

“Books don’t talk back. They don’t expect small talk. I like the order. And the stories. What about you? History major with a focus on obscure trade? That’s not common.” I shrugged even though he couldn’t see it. “I like knowing how people lived before everything got loud. Plus, it’s an excuse to hide in here. Away from parties and drama.” “Smart girl,” he murmured. The way he said it made my stomach flip. Time passed. Maybe twenty minutes. We talked about everything and nothing. My terrible roommate. His awful coffee from the faculty lounge. How the basement always felt colder than the rest of the building. Our voices got softer, more comfortable. The dark made it easier somehow. Like we we

"He always has an excuse." "He doesn't know I'm only seven diary pages away from leaving him." "I got my period today, and the cramps were so bad I couldn't get out of bed. Dexter came home and brought me some painkillers without me asking." "He said it was the same kind he'd gotten for Brianna last time. She said they worked great, so they'd probably help me too." "I said thanks, but no thanks." "One page left. Then I'm done." The last page had only two lines.

“I’ve noticed. He kind of likes to annoy you.” “Oh, it’s his life mission.” Mrs. Fisher cleared her throat from the front. “Alright, who can tell me the first step?” Dead silence. I looked at my desk. Eye contact meant certain death and I wasn't prepared for that. Ella leaned closer, whispering, “I don’t get why letters get to hang out with numbers. It just feels wrong.” I smirked. “They call it algebra. I call it identity theft.” Her laugh escaped before she could stop it, and Mrs. Fisher’s gaze snapped to us. “Is something funny?”

I went upstairs to the library instead, the one I'd stumbled upon previously by accident, the one with the vintage maps on the walls and battered leather armchairs. I pulled a book from the shelves at random, not checking the title. The pages parted, and I saw writing scrawled in the margins. Elias's handwriting. I collapsed onto the floor and stared at the ink. There was a life here. A story between every stroke of his pen. Somewhere in this house were secrets even Aria would not dare speak. I thought about how Elias had looked at me earlier when he told me his story. It was like I could still seethe little boy in there that wanted to be a child again.

However, Nick said reluctantly, "Mr. Shaw, please stop clinging to such delusions. There is no such thing as merpeople." However, Connor ignored that. All he could think about was Sylvie. "If you refuse to look into it, then I'll do it myself." He went to libraries and scoured every book he could find, including ancient texts. At last, he found one that had a record about merpeople. According to the book, not only did merpeople exist, but they were just like humans with real emotions, too. Recalling everything he'd done to Sylvie, Connor nearly drowned under his remorse.