The Forgotten Novel Novels & Stories

Her forehead creased even more as if I said something ridiculous. "Huh? Why are you asking such question? Since childhood, we have been together. Your name is Yula and I am Nessa. Did you forget your memory again?" "Nevermind. Just forget about what I have said." I sighed. Her mouth opened. "Do not tell me you remembered something from your past? What do you remember now?" "Do you know anyone named N-Nathrelya?" There was a hopefulness in my voice. Even though it is already clear to me, I want to hear from other people that I am not really Yula.

She had almost spoken Elira’s name, almost broken the silence she had sworn to keep. And yet—for that single heartbeat—it had been worth it. Memory lived not only in words, but in flesh, in instinct, in marrow. The forgotten was not gone. The forgotten had teeth sharper than truth.

He thought back to the past, and he saw Naomi working diligently in the office six years ago in his mind's eye. Naomi had been his first female secretary. She was highly competent, attentive, and had never once made any careless mistakes on the job. Additionally, she had cared for him meticulously in his daily life. After the car accident left him paralyzed, she had stayed by his side without complaint. Without her encouragement and care, he wouldn't have recovered so quickly. That night, he had been drunk and forced himself on her. So, why had he stubbornly believed she had seduced him on purpose?

Mafia Marriage From Betrayal to Obsession 21-On My Wedding Day, My Fiancé Wanted to Take His Sister-in-Law for a Prenatal Checkup After I Burned The House Down and Faked My Death, the Two Alphas Finally Regretted It Mafia Boss’s Heir Is My Stepsister’s Son Left for dead, found by the mother I lost After the Seven-Year Contract Ended Fated Mate Isn’t Me The Forgotten Wife of the Mafia Boss

I turned to him and noticed he was snacking on potato chips. Something suddenly hit me. I hit my forehead softly.“Oh no.” Blake looked at me “What is it this time” “The potato chips.” “What potato chips?” he asked, confused. “The twins’. They specifically begged me not to forget.” “They’ve been talking about those barbecue-flavored potato chips since last week. And I completely forgot, They will kill me.” “They won’t, Athena.” He smiled.“You brought every other thing.” I shook my head.“They made me promise.” Blake looked toward the stage. The speeches were still going.

Do they really know each other? Liam never thought that she had forgotten about him. Eleven years ago was a really long time but it’s not enough to forget somebody who was important to you. Was he not important to her? Or she probably had amnesia? No way, she remembered her grandparents. She knew them, how come she only forgot about him? “Or maybe you really forgot about me. I’m sorry to disturb you.” He was sad and hurt. It was evident in his eyes. He went away disappointedly. It’s not like him to retreat, but it came to him as a surprise that she didn’t know him.

— Why did you come back? — I forgot my laptop, and I need to send some documents this weekend... — And there was no way to get a laptop there? — I had. Except that the documents are only saved in my personal notebook! — Mom, I told you not to do that! If you lose your notebook, or suddenly there is some problem with it, what then? — I never do that, but this time I forgot! — You forgot and ruined my moment because of your forgetfulness. — Why was the door closed, and did you take so long to open it?

'We must check our Luna, she is not safe here even if the Alpha believe she is' Knox states, he was always the straight thinker The sight of a sleeping Rory helps ease my mind and calm my nerves, even Kane's roaring snores from on the sofa brings me some comfort. This seems like the perfect time to sit out on the balcony and flick through the book Elder Micha gave me. It was a hand written book filled with scraps and notes, most of it was in such poor handwriting that I struggled deciphering many of the words but from what I could make out, this book or more journal, had belonged to our late Luna's ancestors.

Something dangerous radiated off him like heat from asphalt in summer. I’d seen him around school. Ronan Vale, he didn’t go to our high school anymore. Rumors said he’d been expelled. Or dropped out. Or both. He showed up at parties sometimes. Always alone. Always watching. Never touching. Until now. He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he hadn’t expected to solve tonight. “You lost?” he asked. Voice low. Rough. Like gravel wrapped in smoke. I swallowed. My tongue felt thick. “I… yeah. Sorry. I’ll—”

Something waiting. --- Determined not to be paralyzed by fear, I returned to the antique bookstore — to the stories, the secrets, the fragments of forgotten women. The elderly owner greeted me with a knowing smile. “You’re searching for answers,” he said quietly. I nodded. He handed me a leather-bound tome, its cover worn but strong — *Reflections of the Forgotten*. “Read carefully,” he advised. “Sometimes the past speaks through shadows.” --- I spent the night poring over its pages. The book told of women trapped in illusions, caught between worlds — ghosts of themselves, struggling to reclaim their true identities.