The Summons John Grisham Novels & Stories

My heart stopped. "What is it?" I inquired, my voice barely a whisper. "A court summons?" I reached for the envelope. "Not exactly, Ma’am," Grace said with a smile. "It's a judicial notice from the high court of Knightstorm Pack. The top court, Boss.” The top court. My breath hitched. My hands trembling, I tore the envelope open. The paper inside was crisp, the ink still smelled fresh. I scanned the writing, my heart hammering in my chest.

What he did was despicable and horrible, even more than that, he knew that it started with a bet but he wished he hadn't taken the bet in the first place. A phone call jolted him out of his reverie and he hurriedly picked the call after seeing that it was his lawyer who was handling his case with Jake. "Hello Mr Bates. We've sent Mr Jake Summers a court summons and he hasn't replied yet." Ryder sighed. "Does that mean he won't come to court?" Ryder asked and his Lawyer sighed. "If he doesn't he is going to be arrested. Try and reach him, make sure he answers the summons before things get ugly."

he asked. “Yes, that’s me,” I replied hesitantly. “This is for you. Please sign here.” I signed the receipt, thanked him, and slowly closed the door. The envelope felt heavy in my hand—whether from its contents or the uneasy weight settling in my chest, I wasn’t sure. I sat at the dining table, staring at it for a long time before finally breaking the seal. Inside was a sheet of thick white paper with the letterhead of the Northern Pack Court. OFFICIAL SUMMONS OF WITNESS

He could drag me through the mud, he could strip my life bare, but I wasn’t backing down. I’d fight until my last breath. The official court summons arrived the next morning. Thick envelope. Heavy paper. His name against mine in bold black letters. Palmer vs. Greenwood. I held it in my hands, my chest tight. War had begun.

Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everyone in the unflattering pallor that seemed reserved for places where human suffering was processed with bureaucratic efficiency. I sat with perfect posture on the hard wooden bench outside Courtroom C, Sally on one side, my attorney Evelyn Morris on the other. Three hours earlier, I'd received the court summons—hand-delivered to my apartment by a process server who had the decency to look embarrassed about the 6 AM wake-up call. Two hours earlier, Griffin had been escorted to Elliott's private plane by James and Clara, destination undisclosed even to me. One hour earlier, Maria Coleman had called with the warning I'd been dreading: Michael had

the maid asked. “I’m John Summers from Edwin Loans in New York, and I’m here to see Mr. McLean” Summers said. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible sir, but I would see if madam would be able to attend to you sir” the maid said and closed the door. Summers was getting more confused now, he wondered what the maid meant by, “I’m afraid that won’t be possible”. ‘Is Owen trying to play hide and seek games by shutting down his offie, and travelling out of England?’ or has something terrible happened to him? Summers wondered.

And he didn’t look particularly nice, either. “Is there a Violet Fielding in residence?” “That’s me. Is something wrong?” He handed her a document that read SUMMONS at the top in huge black letters. “I don’t understand,” she said weakly. “You’ve been summoned. Everything you’ll need to know is in the document. Have a nice afternoon.”

In the morning, the little grass in the yard sprouted tender shoots, glistening with fresh droplets of water. Paityn wrapped herself in a cashmere scarf as she walked along the gravel path. She held a stack of mail mostly consisting of utility bills from the water and electricity companies. However, nestled in the middle was a letter from the court. As Paityn opened it, she discovered it was a summons. The plaintiff was Jamie. It was early spring chill. Paityn stood in the morning sunlight, but she felt no warmth. She slowly tightened her wool scarf to try to warm herself a little.

Ignoring the piles of work he had left behind in the US. "Sir, someone is looking for you," his bodyguard suddenly said, making him look up. Behind the bodyguard, a man in a suit followed, carrying a briefcase. "Good day, Mr. Figarlan," he greeted. "W-what do you need?" he stammered, putting the bottle of alcohol on the center table and slowly standing up. "I have here a summons letter for you," the court sheriff said. Niro frowned. 'Summons?' The court sheriff handed him a document taken from his briefcase.

The Grishams started to panic within a few minutes when they couldn’t see any other option in front of them. They were about to call their sir from the hotel room’s landline when the housekeeping informed them about the second letter…. And then…. After a few minutes came the third one….. Now, they have no choice left but to call their sir. Someone has been keeping an eye on their moves and they had no idea…. With shaking hands, Mr. Grisham calls their sir knowing completely well that this call could be traced…. But they have no choice left…..