The Life We Bury Book Review Novels & Stories

Melissa lost it. “It’s your fault! You killed Lisa! If it weren’t for you dragging her to that stupid cemetery to kneel for your dead son, she never would’ve died in the first place!”

My name was in the system. Tomorrow I'd walk back into the one place I'd promised myself I'd never go again, carrying the greatest secret Ethan Graves had ever given me without knowing it. He thought he'd buried me. He had no idea what I'd grown into instead.

“They will be burying Anna Lauren finally this evening” I turned and it felt like something pierced my heart that moment. Those names felt oddly familiar but I couldn't place them. “You should go pay your final respects in my stead” The grandfather commanded. “He was once a business associate afterall” Alexander sighed deeply. He didn't respond and only walked me out of the mansion. Inside the car, he faced the driver. “Drive her home” I turned to him, my eyes demanding answers. Is he not coming home with me? “I will have to attend the burial like grandfather wants” he said, staring deep into my eyes. I nodded while fidgeting with my fingers.

The folks watching nearby started whispering and pointing. "She didn't even research properly. She's pretending to be a dead woman whose body's probably dust by now!" "Exactly. Trying to pass herself off as the richest man's wife. She should take a look in the mirror!" I said nothing. I walked toward my parents' urns, the ones being used as flower pot bases, planning to dig them out and rebury them properly. Digby stepped in first and kicked one of the ceramic urns hard. It shattered instantly. My parents' ashes spilled across the ground, mixing with dirt and fertilizer.

"He must've been so desperate to live off a woman that he has lost his mind. To think he's pretending to be a dead man, whose body must've turned to dust by now!" "I know, right? I can't believe he's trying to pass himself off as the husband of the richest woman in the city! He should take a good look at himself in the mirror first." Suppressing my rage, I ignored the chatter around me and walked toward my parents' urns, which had been used to prop up some flowerpots. I wanted to dig them out of the soil and rebury them properly, but Melissa beat me to it. She kicked the urns with her sharp heels, and they shattered instantly. My parents' ashes spilled across the ground, mixing in with the d

Her fingernails were blackened at the tips, as if she’d reached into a furnace. "You reclaimed what was yours," Elias said, stumbling toward the remains of the banister. He looked up at her, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable. "But the earth... it never gives for free. You are bleeding out from the inside, and so am I." The Reaction: The Scent of Old Smoke In the bunker, Julian Vane didn't scream. He didn't throw his glass. He watched the static on the monitors—the moment the feed cut out as the ley line erupted—and he simply smiled.

I leaned closer, his breath shallow. "Good," My father said at last, his tone grave. "But we must tread carefully. That book was never meant to see the light again. It carries knowledge that twisted the ancestors, that cost the southern packs their souls. The council buried it for a reason." My pulse quickened. A forbidden book, unearthed from a cemetery? Why were they speaking of such things now? I need to get my hands on it His Beta hesitated. "You believe it has something to do with her disappearance?

I added when the graveyard’s boundary came into clear sight. Alistair and I exited the vehicle and sprinted inside. “I’m not sure how to proceed. Where should we bury it?” I asked him nervously. The eerie atmosphere of the nighttime graveyard gave me the chills. “There,” said Alistair, pointing at the oldest and most scary-looking tree in the graveyard. “We should bury it in the shadow of that tree.” “Alright,” I said. At that point, I was ready to do anything. We walked up to the tree, and Alistair dug a small hole in the soil with a small shovel that I didn’t know he was carrying. Who carries one in the inner pocket of their overcoat?

Clutching the ring tightly, Greg let out a hoarse, agonizing cry. Three days later, I was buried in the national cemetery, right alongside my parents. Every one of our friends from school came to my funeral, except for Chloe. After barely escaping Greg’s knife with her life, Chloe began to lose her mind, claiming that she could see ghosts. As a result, she was sent away to a mental asylum to be treated. As for the friends who had attended the birthday party that night, they all tacitly agreed never to speak of what happened again. Greg had told them to take it as a bad dream and forget it as quickly as possible, lest they go crazy themselves.