Where's My Dad Book Novels & Stories

I'll be the one to haunt him down. Before our dad was killed, I have figure out the things that he never confess to us, even my mom don't have any ideas about it. Dad was hiding some weird letters that mentioning about vampires and werewolves. It made me curious but I haven't shared anything about it with my brothers. They will call me weird if I'm going to share about those mythical creatures. Dad was very mysterious but I was a detective at my age. I'm silent but notice everything. I won't stop until I'll find out the answer and get what I want. I sneak into dad's private room, looking for some shreds of evidence but then I've found a book that changed my life forever.

Smiling. Dad looks up from the book in his lap when I step fully into the room. He motions for me to take a seat. I don’t. “I know about your meeting with the man from the Western Pack,” I blurt before I lose my courage. Dad doesn’t speak immediately. He sets the book aside, folds his hands over his lap, and studies me. The firelight flickers across his face, casting lines I’ve never noticed before—worry, fatigue, maybe both.

A man in his fifties was sitting on a throne like chair, holding a book named Panic. He's my father. "D-dad?" I said stuttering. He nodded, tear starting to form in his eyes. he put the book down and ran to embrace me. It felt warm, I was suddenly emotional, first time having someone to embrace, knowing my father for the first time in my 23 years of existence. "W-why did you leave me? w-who, where is my mother?" I asked hurriedly.

The title is just being passed down through the generation and all of them are either successful in their own way. “ Dad.” My voice echoes through the study room while my father is busy scanning some folders. He looks at me for a moment before he stops me from talking. Scattering my sight through the study area, I have noticed the tall bookshelves about politics and it scares me. The thickness of those books will consume almost half of my life if I ever decided to read those. “ W-Why did you call me?” I asked him before stepping at the side, nervously watching him. This version of him is my least favorite. When dad is quiet, it’s either he solved the problem or he’s doing something that will

My dad was once again happy with me and finally left me alone. I haven't giving up searching for Christodia, no I haven't. I still got some men round her dad's place, the school she used to teach and also her friend's place. I am sure she would definitely visit one of these places one day and I don't care how long it takes, I will wait for her. ********************************************** Hey there, please give my book some votes. Thanks 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

"Aria! What are you doing buried in all those books?" Dad's voice made me jump. I quickly closed the book and turned around with an innocent smile. "Nothing, Dad! Just... reading history! For school!" Dad raised an eyebrow, walking over and picking up one of the scrolls. "History, huh? Looking for your long-lost relatives?" I pouted. "You heard me talking to Master Shen, didn't you?" "I hear everything that happens in this house," Dad smirked, sitting on the edge of the table. "But fine. Since you are so curious... I have something for you."

Mark “What is this place?” Susan asked me as we walked into the private study that stood by itself in my father's old house. I used to come here when I was a lot younger to play with my father or whoever I thought was my father. He would put me in a corner after hours of running around his large study and place a book in front of me. “You are what you read, son,” he would look at me, his eyes filled with love, “and if you read nothing, you will become nothing.”

"Sienna!" "What? Don't tell me you haven't—" "Jesus Christ, Sienna!" he interrupted, the blush deepening. "I am not talking about this. Go see your dad." I laughed, throwing my hands up in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. You're off the hook—for now." With that, I headed to Dad's study, pushing open the heavy door. "Dad, apparently you forgot your—" The words froze on my tongue as my gaze locked onto a pair of piercing blue eyes.

As my thoughts wandered, I looked around in the usual places I kept my watch. I realized my keepsake from my father was gone. It was the only thing I had left of him. Tears pricked my eyes, and I frantically searched the house, but it wasn’t there. Where was it? Where did I leave it? I must have lost it on campus, I thought.

"You and Avi are both blessings in disguise. We've adored you. So, when your father discovered your true personality through his research, he decided to relocate you to Samaria, where the Tribians could not touch you." "Mama, Avi is a weaver. P-but you didn't mention that I'm a vessel destined to die at the hands of a Santi to stop the blacks, aside from being able to heal my own and other people's wounds." My dad shook his head unsurely. He stood up and began digging through a trunk in the far corner. When he returned, he had a tiny book in his hand, bound in black leather with gold lettering. It was worn out. "What is it, Dad?"