The Untold Story Of Ara Novels & Stories

Zandro's story. "So, our topic now is in the life story huh?!" Ara replied. "How about you ?, don't your parents have that view?" Zandro asked her. Ara was slightly stunned before being able to speak again "N-no, I don't know. They just died, so I don’t know." "I'm s-sorry about that... I didn't mean to open that kind of conversation—" Ara forced a smile and took the food that was lying on the table to avoid the topic "It looks delicious, I guess, Than cooked it."

Ara later emerged one of the lucky applicants recruited by the International Police. Five years after joining Interpol and realizing some cases were solvable while others are a mystery till the grave, Ara had decided to move on and leave the painful part of his past behind him but the nightmares haunted his nights and the memories haunted his days. When Ara could no longer take it anymore, he decided to secretly investigate the origin of the Impossible Destination and put an end to his emotional unrest by finding out the reason his parents went missing. Ara desperately wanted to move on but he knew that the only way to take off the shackles holding him back was to finish what he started as a

Rhea said getting up from where she sat After lunch, i decided that I had to tell her everything before it comes out from some other person in the room "Urrrmm Rhea..." "Huh?" I called which she answered to "There's something you should know, I'm very sorry to have hidden it from you but i wasn't fully aware of it either" I tried explaining myself on our way to the sitting room "Go on" She urged "Okay, remember when Caroline said we dated back in highschool right?" I asked for clarity purpose

An hour later, Brian rounded up the usual posse for scoping out a new home -- her intern Anandi, an pretty Indian graphic design student who Brian secretly had a crush on since he kept asking her out, but apparently she was betrothed to a man back home and turned him down every time, and her two layout guys responsible for measuring the living spaces of a home or business for use later in the designing process. But when Chrissie walked out to the parking lot with her portfolio in one hand and her work bag in the other, she glanced at two men she'd never seen before talking to Brian. She stopped and asked, "Who are you?"

she said sharply. Her entire life, the midwife had avoided questions about her parents. Whenever Aria had asked where she came from, the old woman would only say that her parents had died when she was a baby. That had always been the end of the conversation. Now suddenly, a stranger in the forest was telling her he had known them. “You’re lying,” Aria said instinctively. Rona shook his head slowly. “I wish I were.” Aria felt anger rising inside her. “If you knew my father,” she said, “why have I never seen you before?”

Tim reprimanded her in a low voice, making Ara roll her eyes. "Am I not telling the truth? No matter how many condoms you wear, I still get pregnant because you pump so hard for eternity." "Ara! I said, shut up." Ara finally closed her mouth, but her next move plunged me into another scene of emotional disaster. She spotted another friend of hers occupying the last table in a row. She waved a hand and squealed, then stood up and dragged me towards her friend. "Ara, it's been a long while!" Her friend stood up and hugged her.

— We were having our dinner silently when Crystal turned to Amar who had her on his lap. "Daddy you know we met a boy today!" She exclaimed excitedly and I palmed my face. "Really? When?" He matched her enthusiasm but looked at the both of us questioningly. "When Ara and I went for a walk Daddy." She pointed at me and as much as she looked cute at that moment I wanted to slam my head somewhere when I realized I forgot to ask her to not mention it in front of anyone. How can this little devil not share any detail with her father? She was a true daddy's princess.

They fell asleep tangled together, rings and chain pressed between their bodies, the rain a steady lullaby outside, but the peace felt temporary, like the calm before the ultimate storm. Morning of the final. A Westbridge scout slipped an envelope under their hotel door while they were at breakfast. Inside: a single photo from college — Martin and Damien celebrating a win, arms around each other, grinning like the world belonged to them. On the back, in familiar handwriting: “Good luck today. Some of us never forgot the real story.” The past had come to watch them win — but not in the way they expected.