Unbound Book Neal Shusterman Novels & Stories

"If he doesn't wake up, then just let him sleep more, alright? He'll wake up when he's rested enough." "No, Mom, but… the doctor said Dad went to heaven and won't ever wake up again. Mom, come save him!" Leroy's voice broke into sobs, and then Timothy's voice came through the phone. "Ms. Jorian, please come back. I'm not lying; your husband has passed away—" "Enough. Niels is really regressing. He must have become mentally twisted from being homebound. Why else would he get you to help him fabricate something so ridiculous?"

The city lights twinkled like faraway stars, reminding me of the world that keeps moving beyond these walls. I couldn’t help but think of my dad, stuck in a cell, his innocence taken away by a system that just doesn’t seem to care. I couldn’t help but think of my mom; her absence feels like a huge emptiness inside me. I couldn’t help but think of Luca, the sweet little boy who had turned out to be my unexpected anchor. What’s my purpose here? I wondered. How did things end up like this for me?

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"The Vance family built a world where every breath was an advance on a debt you couldn't see. But out here, the air doesn't keep a tally." I looked down at my hands. The stain from the printer's ink was fading, turning into a faint, gray shadow along the creases of my palms. The phantom in the silk suit, the Faceless Author, the iron pens—they were all sinking into the deep, dark reservoir of the unwritten past. We had torn the book in half, and in doing so, we had finally broken the sequence. The Geography of the Unwritten

"He said he'd noticed me before, but I don't remember him at all. I only knew Nathan had a younger uncle in the family." Lena rolled her eyes dramatically. "Of course you don't remember! You only had eyes for Nathan since college. You were completely blind to everyone else. I know it's complicated and fast, but girl... this is karma at its finest.” She took a sip of her wine and continued. “Gurrll, you know what they say—sometimes the worst thing that happens to you leads to the best thing. If Nathan hadn't betrayed you, you never would have ended up with his uncle. And the beautiful irony? Nathan basically delivered you to him personally!" She burst into laughter.

I was just a useless soul. Hudson watched with casual amusement, his disdain almost palpable. When the last piece of clothing was removed, Terry stopped struggling. His gaze was now filled with hatred for Wendy. Seeing that she couldn't find anything, Wendy froze for a moment. But when she noticed the hatred in Terry's eyes, her rationality snapped. She stood up, yanked the naked Terry, and threw him into the snow. "Since you won't listen to me, you can kneel in the snow and think about your behavior."

Determined to distract himself, he retrieved his laptop and opened a report he had brought home from work. Several minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. Finally, Calvin closed the laptop with a frustrated sigh. He had been staring at the same page the entire time. Not a single word had registered. For perhaps the first time in his life, work had failed to distract him. And that realization unsettled him far more than he cared to admit. The following morning, sunlight filtered through Sarah’s curtains, spilling across her bedroom. She stretched lazily beneath the covers before reaching for her phone on the bedside table.

Nora and I are left alone with a dead man on her kitchen table and a name, Unbound, that I don’t understand yet, but that already feels like it’s going to define the rest of my life. “Where do we start?” I ask her. “With the body,” she says. “And then, if you’re serious, with everything else. It’s going to take longer than one night, Sloane. It might take longer than you have patience for.” I think about a hall full of people who watched me bleed and called it honesty. “I have time,” I say. “I have nothing but time now.”

Then left before the conversation could continue. Back inside his office, the wrapped book still sat on his desk. Waiting. Walter picked it up. His thumb brushed the edge of the paper. The same way it had brushed the novel cover in her bookstore. Outside, Manhattan stretched endlessly beneath the afternoon sun. Millions of people. Millions of stories. Yet somehow one bookstore assistant had managed to do what investors, executives, and rivals never could. She had made him look inward. Walter stared at the skyline. Then at the book.

“WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE LODGE.” I didn’t open them. Not until I was home. Showered. Alone. Back in the armor of city lights and sharp suits. Then I did what I always do. I poured a glass of red. Opened my laptop. And braced for the mess. But I wasn’t prepared for this. Title: “Locked In: A True Story of Lust in the Storm” By: Jax Hart I blinked. Then clicked. The bastard had published a preview. A whole fucking chapter. On his newsletter. To over two million subscribers.