Till We Have Faces Audiobook Novels & Stories

When she turned to face us, the breath left my lungs in a sharp, painful gasp. She didn't have a face. Where her features should have been, there was only a smooth, blank sheet of white parchment, save for two dark, horizontal slits where the eyes should be. Behind those slits, I could see the frantic, microscopic movement of thousands of tiny, metal type-set characters, constantly shifting and re-aligning to spell out the words she was about to speak. "The Default is a typo," the Faceless Author said, her parchment skin tightening as the metal letters behind her eyes spelled out her disapproval. "And a typo is simply an asset that hasn't been properly audited."

With each spoonful, nourishment seeped into our weary bodies, revitalizing our strength and kindling the flame of hope within us. Between bites, Kendrick shared his experiences since my unconsciousness, the efforts he had made to gather information and reach out to potential allies. His resilience and resourcefulness never ceased to amaze me. I listened intently, feeling a renewed sense of purpose growing within me. As we finished our meal, our gazes met, the unspoken bond between us reaffirmed. We were partners in this struggle, inseparable in our determination to bring an end to Audrey's reign of terror. No matter the challenges that lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our lo

~Grayson The first thing I register on waking up are hushed voices around me. I open my eyes slowly, aware of the pain in the side of my head. At first my vision is a blurry mess of figures hovering above me. It becomes clearer with each second until I'm able to make out the faces of Simon and Philip both staring at me. "He's awake," Philip announces, moving away from me. Simon continues staring at me long after that, till the point that I'm spooked. He looks away from me and addresses someone I can't see because of the inclination of my head.

A face began to form in the reflective surface. Not identical to me. Not identical to the replica. But familiar enough to tighten every muscle in my body. The beam of light across the city widened. Nodes blinking in sync again. Temporary alignment. The system calling us back. Not to command. To correct. Eli whispered what none of us wanted to say. “It’s not done with us.” The forming face in the metal flickered. Then spoke. Not through speakers. Through every phone at once. Through the dock alarms. Through the hum of the water.

I heard the front door open by itself behind me and stiffened, feeling a wave of heat lashing my cheeks. “Francesca, I assume?” the lady said. To my utter surprise, she looked at the rest of the empty porch, nodding with another smile. “Momma, uncles, cousin.” “Welcome back, Audrey.” She turned to me with a questioning frown. Shit. I’d forgotten to turn off the speaking app. “Sorry, that’s how I talk with them,” I tried, embarrassed to no end. She smiled. “Technology these days, right?” Joseph’s exact words when Trisha had showed him the SLS app. “I’m Audrey Anderson Blotter, nice to meet you.”

We NEED to talk though. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and held the screen up for Ivan to see. “See,” I said, with a smug on my face. “The power of optimism.” “Next week isn't forever, Ava.” “No, but it's not tonight either,” I set the phone back down. “One crisis at a time.” We sat in silence for a moment, the kind that had started to feel less awkward and more comfortable than either of us wanted to admit out loud.

It comes before dawn. Every hollowed silver in every cage below us lifts its head at the same instant, a long row of ruined faces turning as one toward our cleft, and the whole valley fills with a voice that is courteous and vast and final, and it slides into all of our minds at once, even Rowan's, who wakes with a small cry. Enough waiting, little echo. You've had your night. Come up to me now. Bring them if it comforts you. I will only be keeping one.

a pack member voiced, their voice filled with both excitement and trepidation. I looked around at the faces illuminated by the fire's glow, their eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "We may not have all the answers," I replied, my voice steady despite the lingering doubts. "But we have come this far together, united by our shared purpose. With trust and determination, we will face whatever challenges await us."

The earlier talk… the yelling… it was too much. Everything blurred at the edges, like the world was dissolving in slow motion, "Just leave, okay? I don't want anything from any of you. Not anymore. I just want to live and breathe without feeling like my next breathe needs to stolen, given or sacrificed for you people." My legs wobbled, then buckled—and just before I hit the ground, something solid caught me. Not the cold floor. Not the itchy carpet. Someone. “Aanya?” a voice called, distant but familiar.

That night, I slept better than I had in over a decade. When I woke up the next morning, my phone was flooded with hundreds of missed calls and messages. I glanced through them briefly—Don, Nevaeh, Camden, and even those who had once bullied me were all among the senders. I blocked each one of them without hesitation. After coming downstairs and enjoying breakfast with my grandparents, the butler, Elliot Garcia, hurried in to announce, "Mr. Saccone Senior, Mrs. Saccone Senior, Ms. Magnolia, there's someone at the door from the Scott family."