Wait Novel Novels & Stories

Warren wore an expression of helplessness but deliberately pushed the door open a crack. The reporters caught the scent of a major story and swarmed forward like sharks smelling blood. "Ms. Violet is having an affair before marriage?" "Is this the private life of a true wealthy heiress?" The door burst open. Camera flashes went wild, shutters clicking in a frenzy. "Violet! How can you face Drake now?" Warren shouted according to the script. However, the next second, everyone froze.

The following three days felt longer than the previous three months. Not because anything dramatic happened. Because nothing happened. And sometimes waiting was far worse. Waiting gave people time to think. Time to imagine possibilities. Time to fear answers they had not yet received. Ava discovered this repeatedly. Every morning she woke wondering whether Damian would finally call. Every afternoon she found herself checking her phone more often than usual. Every evening ended with the same unanswered questions. The storage unit existed. The documents existed. The recordings existed.

A city that has been whole. Holding itself. Waiting — not desperately, not with the held-breath quality of the cities we have helped — but waiting the way things wait when they know what they are waiting for and trust that it will come. "It's been waiting," Neva says. "Yes," I say. "Not in distress," she says. "Not damaged or deteriorating or under pack interference. Just—" She pauses. "Waiting for the right Warden. The way the cartographer's chamber waited. The way the warm stone waited. The way the city of Caldenveil waited."

"They're not advancing. They're waiting for a signal." "Cord's signal." "Or Fen's." I thought about that. Cord was in the south room, cooperative and contained. Fen was at the terminal, working the archive. Both channels had been running into silence since last night. Voss's team had stopped because the intelligence had stopped making sense and they were waiting for confirmation before they committed. "They'll wait eight hours," I said. "Maybe ten. After that, Voss cuts the loss and sends them in blind." "That's my read."

The gunfire picked up again behind me—like hail on a tin roof, mixed with metal clangs and screaming. "I just wanted you to see me!" Nora's voice cut through the gaps, cracking. "But you never saw me! What does she have that I don't? She did nothing—" A dull thud. Like something heavy hitting metal. I reached the rocks and looked back. Caleb stood in front of the wreckage, back to me, right arm still raised. The speedboat was listing, beached in the shallows. Bodies on the deck. Nora—gone from sight. "Wait one year for me!" His voice chased me through the wind and gunfire—ragged, almost breaking. "One year—go back to where you found me!"

These were words Nora had written as early as her freshman year of high school. "Mom tutors the boy downstairs in math. So why does she say she doesn't know how whenever I ask her?" "I don't like Mom anymore. She missed my parent-teacher conference again." "I really want to graduate soon. Once I graduate, I won't have to stay in this house anymore." "Dad finally agreed today. I'm so happy!" Marissa's eyes widened. That day was the college-sendoff dinner. What did Nora mean? What had Owen Duncan agreed to?

3rd Party Pov At that time, Navian was seated at his desk, gazing at his phone. For more than twenty-four hours, Anna and Owen had left for their vacation. Normally, Anna would send him a brief message or even call to inform him of their safe arrival. Occasionally, Owen would ring Navian just so that he could tell him about trivial things like what he saw along the way or how much fun he was having since Owen loved Navian so much. But now there was nothing- no call, no text, and no update.

She was sitting inside all of that right now. She picked up her pen. She opened the brief to where she had left off. She gave the rest of the morning everything she had and the work moved forward and the morning moved forward and she breathed and she waited. The deal or the pattern. She did not know yet. But she had been waiting for fourteen days for this specific Friday and it was here and yes was already sent and she was going to find out tonight and she was not going to look away from what she found.

Paige had grabbed the wheel, causing the crash. When I arrived at the lab soon afterward, I barely made it to the entrance before the security guard stopped me. "Sorry, Ms. Hood, your access card is no longer valid." "That's impossible. I'm part of Dominic Davis' research team. The card must be malfunctioning. Just call him, and you'll see." The guard had seen me countless times before. So, he agreed and called Dominic. After a brief conversation, he handed me the phone. Dominic's voice came through, cold and detached. "You haven't shown up in two months. Did you think the research data would just wait for you?"

The two of them walked side by side without speaking a word. They walked until they reached a plaza near the neighborhood, where they sat down together on a bench and watched the activity in the distance. "Do you remember this place?" Irina spoke first. "I do." Of course Uriah remembered. During their freshman year of college, over New Year's, Uriah had missed Irina so much that he flew to be with her on New Year's Eve. Due to flight issues, he had landed after midnight on New Year's Day. That time, they had set off fireworks together in this very plaza and swore under the lights that they would spend every New Year together from then on.