The Light We Lost Book Review Novels & Stories

He pulled Courtney behind him and looked at me coldly. "Olivia, if you want to hate someone, hate me. Courtney didn't betray you." I hated them. Of course, I hated them. Ignoring the pain from the burns, I broke down and demanded to know why they had betrayed me. Courtney was crying, too. At first, it was quiet sobbing. When a crowd gathered around us, she suddenly exploded. "Olivia, you have no idea how hard life has been for us over there! We only had each other to rely on. Of course, we got together!"

'Book forty-three of the Kingsmen Chronicles. He leaned the book back towards him and pulled it from the shelf with grace. He smiled as he looked at it in his hand, his eyes carefully considering the intricate pattern of the gold decorating the cover. Gingerly, he cracked it open, leading through the pages until at last he found the desired portion. "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not laid hold of it," he read aloud, proclaiming the fate of the nations.

I was closed by a little light that came out of it, after that— it’s disappeared; therefore, I immediately looked at Grant and my writing. He slowly removed his hand, and that's how my eyes widened at what I saw. My wound was gone, and my blood fades away. How did that happen? I swallowed, looked at him, back in my hand and at the same time looking at him again. I can't believe what happened. I was so startled. “Am I dreaming? That's right; this is a dream.” I pinched myself, but it hurt so much that I also frowned. Gradually I sat down on the floor; Grant held me to support me.

She looked to Victoria who knew everything, only she just gave her a huge smile. Zaine knew immediately who the gift was for. He put in all of his hard work to make something she would be proud to hang anywhere in her room. What he didn’t know was that just minutes before she had been proposed to, until he seen the sparkle from her left hand. Something in him roared to life. Something he thought had died within him long ago. The two of them looked at each other and could feel it. The same thing that happened when they were kids. A metaphorical lightening struck the two of them in their heart. Years of not seeing each other. Not knowing how the other was truly doing. Having no contact except

"Ready?" I nodded, and together we headed out the door. After the attack, the man who stabbed Samson was arrested and jailed, awaiting trial. During questioning, he admitted he had acted out of unbearable grief over losing his loved one. It was a reckless impulse that led to tragedy. I could understand his pain, but I could never accept such a reckless act. Because of it, Samson lost his life in a foreign land. I contacted Mr. Sylvester of the Leslie household. He was so shaken by the news that he could barely stand, but he still did his best to handle Samson's affairs.

Charlotte insisted on doing it herself. “I thought you might like this one,” she said as she handed me the book. “It’s about a man who loses everything. Then…he tries to get it back together little by little.” I glanced at the cover. The title was dramatic. So I said, flatly, “Sounds dramatic.” She let out a short laugh. I never heard someone laugheed like this before. She looked so innocent and pure. Well, she was a budding she-wolf and perhaps still figuring out how the world works.

The fear of losing her made me fear returning to the dark place I had struggled so hard to escape—a place filled with shadows that whispered of despair. This loss felt like an excruciating stab wound. Venita was like a guiding light, not only in my world but also in that of everyone around her. Her absence meant losing the warmth she brought into our lives. The thought of going back to that dark place, where echoes of the past haunted me, filled me with fear because I knew that so many would be doomed.

The tranquillity bid me stay a while longer, promising the comfort of isolated protection and a reprieve to simply be. A light appeared, distant and foreboding. It chased the shadows away without repentance. My comfort, my solace, they darted by me eager to be free of the oppressive light. They stripped me bare in their departure, exposing me to the demons that hovered on the periphery. All the books…all the movies…they warned of such light. It was the final frontier, the line that once crossed offered no return. They swore by the peace if offered and the relief after making the decision.

The fear, the greed, but also the hope of those who’d tried to stop them. And then, the words changed, forming right in front of them: “The truth is not a weapon. It is a light. It will not force anyone to believe but it will let them see. Those who have hidden in the dark will try to put it out. But light only grows stronger when it is shared.” As Elara read those words aloud, the light from the pages spread a little further, touching the walls, the shelves, the very air in the room. Outside, the wind seemed to pick up, soft but steady, like it was carrying something away.

"At least, I told myself it was. I got up every morning. I went to work. I smiled at the right times and said the right things and pretended that I was fine. But after I saw you again—after I held Kiara in my arms and looked into her eyes and knew—there was no longer a life after you. Because all there was, was darkness. Darkness consuming me like wild flames in a dry grass field." His voice cracked. "Seeing you again was the light I'd long lost. And I can't lose it again. Not for anyone. Not for anything. Not for any reason. You are my light, Bianca. You and Kiara both. And I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you if you'll let me."