The Leftovers Series Novels & Stories

On some weekends, Scarlett and I would visit museums together or just take walks around the campus lake. We talked about experiments, future plans, and which restaurants around Redstone were actually worth eating at. We never talked about past relationships. I thought everything about Clive had already been sealed away, boxed up by my busy schedule and new connections, and tossed into some forgotten corner of my memory. Until one fateful afternoon. I had just walked out of the library, arms full of borrowed materials, heading back to the lab across Founders Plaza. The autumn sun was warm. Students were scattered around the square, taking photos, strolling, and skateboarding.

The truth was that each rejection only made me more frustrated. "Honestly, I'm tired of hearing that," I said. "Come on, you're going to lose hope just like that? It's only been a few days," Chloe said. "A few very annoying days," I muttered as I walked deeper into the kitchen. "Is there something to eat? I'm starving," I added. "Yeah, there's some leftovers in the fridge," she replied. See? This was exactly what I was talking about. Who enjoys eating leftovers? I let out a small groan as I pulled the container of leftover rice from the fridge. It felt cold in my hands as I stared at it for a few seconds. A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips.

“Here are the leftovers for you, hurry up and finish them!” Marcel glanced at the plates filled with scattered rice, chicken bones with a little meat still attached, and vegetable soup with only the soup left. “Eat on the floor, as usual.” Marcel lowered his head and looked at his wife, Shirley. “You have the nerve to tell me to finish your brothers’ leftovers?” Marcel asked in a protesting tone, as he frowned reluctantly at the plates. “So what?” replied Shirley with one eyebrow raised. “It was the same yesterday, wasn’t it? Just eat, instead of you dying-that would be more trouble than your mum and dad running off without responsibility.”

It could talk since I had recorded my voice: “Sammy, what are you up to? I miss you. When are you coming home?” However, the batteries had long since died. The toy had been lost during our move at twenty-eight and was never thought of again. I set it down gently on the bed. Alongside it, I also left behind my twenty years of love. Then I picked up my suitcase and walked out of the villa, never looking back. From that moment on, this place had nothing to do with me anymore. … After dealing with Alisa, Sam woke up early the next morning. He drove all the way to a market in the city, just to buy the egg burger Hazel had talked about.

On the day Evan Carter was supposed to meet my adoptive parents, his phone was turned off all day. As my future husband, he had confidently promised me the night before that he would win my parents over. Yet even after the server had refilled our glasses for the sixth time, I still couldn’t reach him. A few hours later, I came across a post from Evan’s assistant, Maya Collins. In the photos, Evan was sitting on her family’s couch with bags of expensive gifts around him, keeping her parents company. The caption read: “My family has been pressuring me to get married nonstop. Thank you to my amazing boss for stepping in and pretending to be my boyfriend so I could get through this!” Evan

That was something, at least. Suddenly, I had a thought. “All that food from the party—what happens to the leftovers?” He blinked, clearly surprised by the question. “They’ll be thrown away,” he said with a shrug. “That’s ridiculous. All that food, just wasted?” “That’s how it’s always been done,” Isaac said. “Why?” Without answering, I kicked off my shoes, then brushed past him and headed back toward the great hall, barefoot. I nearly collided with a servant who was carrying a tray of partially eaten pastries.

“You can get what you can finish first and come back if you want more. Alpha doesn’t want any food to go to waste. He said that there are a lot of people who are dying of hunger and here we are privileged to eat anything we want as long as nothing is wasted.” “But can all the people finish all this food?” I asked in confusion because I could see that there were a lot. “Yup,” Martha replied as she placed a glass of water on her tray. “All the leftovers are cooked into a different dish the next day for breakfast or we feed the homeless humans on the city nearby.” I never knew that such a system worked since servants in the packhouse served my food. But Martha was right about Stefan not wanting

They plotted how to release the information they collected on the interview. “Let’s go out for Dinner.” Ed suggested; He didn’t want Lara to be burdened with cooking. “We have leftovers from lunch which I am craving.” Lara looked towards the dining table greedily “I will whip up something for the rest of you if that’s okay.” “I want leftovers too.” Ben knew what the leftovers were. “You can’t fight with me. You ate at lunch.” Lara muttered. “I definitely want leftovers if the two of you are fighting.” Ed stood up and walked towards the dining area without waiting for anyone.

Although Lady Wilson wanted to save the leftovers that she brought back yesterday for New Year’s Eve dinner, the four of them had finished them before nightfall due to unbearable hunger. The leftovers were not much, and each of them was not even half-full after the meal, so they were still starving. Lady Wilson and Wendy were drooling as they looked at the table with home-cooked food made by the three ladies. When the three ladies started eating, Wendy asked Lady Wilson in a hushed voice, “Grandma, do you think they will leave any leftovers later?” Lady Wilson shook her head while swallowing her saliva again. “I don’t know, but I hope so…”

As long as she didn't repeatedly eat the same leftovers, it wouldn't have a significant impact on her health. Moreover, the leftovers she stored in the fridge were all meat dishes. She had already finished the vegetable dishes, so it wasn't a problem. After storing the leftover food, Rebecca wiped the dining table. Then, she picked up her phone and headed to the backyard. She wasn't a moody person. Upon realizing that David was no longer angry, she didn't dwell on the matter anymore. The summer night by the seaside was very pleasant. The sea breeze was comfortable, and the temperature was just right. She sat in the garden on a wicker chair and listened to the distant sound of waves crashing