The Giver Novels & Stories

His gaze felt like an X‑ray, as if he wanted to look straight through me. I did not look away. I met his gaze with a numb calm. After a long silence, he smiled and pulled his hand back. He tossed the burn ointment onto the nightstand. “Fine. Go. But you must return on February sixteenth. It is my birthday. I want you to give yourself to me as a gift.” He leaned close to my ear, and his teeth brushed my earlobe. “You need to be clean and fresh.” I pushed down the nausea in my stomach and nodded. “Okay.”

Then he flips it over and says, "1910, wow. Where'd you get such an old picture of the house?" Trying to stay calm, my eyes jerk over to Brad, but he's already looking at me. We both know where it came from. Atticus. He's still here. *The End* Acknowledgements: To my betas: Paige Weaver, Sarah Phelps, Beth Rustenhaven, Stephenie Thomas, Laura Wilson, Vanessa Proehl, Tami Fairley, Chelcie Dacon and Tashia Brandenburg. Thank you for your honesty, your patience and your time. Your opinions were like gold and I am so grateful for each and every one of you.

’ The sellers always had to tell the buyers which ones were virgins and which ones were not. Once they walked out of the basement, the man had them bring out each child one by one and line them up in front of his truck. "Here, this is a card with 10 million pounds in it. Have your men check if the money is in the card". Nate passed the card on to his boys and after a while, it was confirmed that there was exactly 10 million in the account. Great! Once the children had all loaded the truck, the man put out his hand.

"Yvonne, I also have something for you." He opened a velvet box, inside which sat a ten-carat ruby ring. It was the Scott family heirloom. "The family ring?" someone whispered. "Only the Scott matriarch wears that." "He gave it to Yvonne. It turns out that he really loves her..." Shawn slid it onto Yvonne’s finger. Everyone cast envious glances. I watched this scene and felt extremely uncomfortable. "But..." Yvonne suddenly looked at me, her face full of guilt. "Isn't this supposed to be Zoe's? It seems inappropriate for me to wear this..."

I grinned like an idiot and took the stuffed flower bouquet from Elayne. "Thanks." Then I went quiet, eyes glued to my phone. Elayne slid her hand over the screen. "Don't look at that." I shook my head. "It's fine. I'm not mad." The camera zoomed in—Mom and some girl in the pic. Caption: [Valentine's Day with my daughter, Tia.] Elayne gave me that look—like she was trying to read my mind. I forced a smile. "I know her. Tia was in the bed next to Dad. She's an orphan. Got better thanks to donations.

His hands, probably trembling with disbelief would have forced themselves to open the small gift box beside it. Inside, nestled on soft fabric, were the tiny remains of our unborn child. Its small hands curled into delicate fists, its eyes closed forever, never to grow, never to breathe. I could almost feel the impact on him, as if he had been struck by a physical blow. All the arrogance, all the anger, draining away, leaving him weak. The box would have slipped from his suddenly numb grasp, crashing to the ground. "What is Irene trying to do by sending this kind of thing on the day of the marking ceremony? Crazy woman!" he would have spat, kicking the box aside in disgust.

He always stared, taking his eyes off and placing them somewhere else when I turn to him. He was addicting to be with in more ways than one. I still remember the rage I'd felt when that knife had gone at him. The pure unadulterated push to kill. To tear to pieces. From the ancient books Father kept in the library before he passed, the gryms were explained as creature who went on quests, messengers. And gryms weren't usually murderous. There was something off about these ones. Sighing, I let the last paperwork fall from my hand into the heap. Beads of sweat coated the surface of my chest, down to the biceps on my arms.

Everyone present fell silent, shock written all over their faces. Dylan's face went pale. He rushed forward to clamp a hand over his mother's mouth, but it was too late. All I felt was disgust as I looked at the mother-and-son duo. A voice rang out again in my mind. "Your awakening was detected. Reward: 100 billion. Mission issued: Humiliate the villains. Reward: Matchmaking with Lumeria's richest man, Gabriel York, at the next table."

“You’re a good woman, Evelyn.” “Any man would want you, but I’m not that man anymore.” I know eight years is a very long time, and I’ve wasted your time. I know this will be very hard for you, but you have to accept it. You deserve better." He slid the paper across the tablecloth. It moved with a terrifying finality, stopping just inches from my water glass. "Here," he said, his voice devoid of the warmth that had greeted me when I came in. "This is a cheque of ten thousand dollars. Use it to start a new life for yourself."

He looked less like a shrewd businessman and more like a sunny, easygoing neighbor. “I came specifically to thank Ms. Morgan for the generous gift,” he said, lightly waving his phone. “That report is worth a fortune.” “It was nothing.” “It may be nothing to you, but to the Rothschilds, it was a golden opportunity.” Travis looked at me, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration. “I’m curious. What kind of deep grudge exists between you and Leo?” I put my sunglasses back on and looked out toward the horizon, where the sea met the sky.