Whit's Hours Novels & Stories

Time kept moving forward, never pausing for anyone’s emotions. After reading for two hours, I glanced up. It was only eight o’clock. I happened to glance at my phone, which was still on silent, and noticed a few unread messages. The moment I unlocked it, Tristian’s texts appeared like a ghost that wouldn’t go away. “Miss White, are you free?” “Miss White, just happened to be passing by your building. Would you care to join me for a cup of coffee?” I frowned. Tristian really had a way of lingering like a shadow.

Then, she would have all the sisters to herself, so when she goes after Rose, none of them would be under her control. "White never really broke my hold on Violet, and Crystal," Rose said. "I just made you think you had them on your side. So far they are in human form, I can always control them. They have to learn to wear their true form as whispers, then I can't be able to control them. But as a sign of good faith, I hereby end my conflict with the Whites, and the hold over my sisters. Their Whispers are theirs to control." It would just be for a time.

5:00 PM One more bloody hour!

Hollis laughed quietly as Whitney’s sleepy expression was replaced with one of surprise. “Now that I find hard to believe. I was for sure I’d be the one waking you up today!” She rubbed her eyes with a drawn out yawn and bumped Hollis’ hip the way she did when she was messing around. It was so unusual in fact, the dark haired girl felt like she was still dreaming. Her lover wasn’t the biggest fan of the whole early bird routine and it made perfect sense as to why. Save for the daybreak fishing trips she took with Whitney, Hollis worked until after two A.M so her idea of “morning” usually came around after noon. It was nice not having to drag her out of bed though; Especially because she was

with as much sass as possible. He snorted and said "Be ready babe, your 48 hours starts at 8 tomorrow! I hope you are all set to have a wild time" I could feel him smirking before the line got disconnected. Is it just me or is it getting hot in here? phew! I asked myself while getting out of the store and fanning my face. I couldn't stop my giddiness now. I can't wait for tomorrow!

Sophia wiped a small mark of dust from her jacket. “They were the last team inside the facility.” Elizabeth finally allowed herself to relax a little. “Thank God.” Lewis Anderson stood near the control panel, watching the countdown screen. 12 HOURS 05 MINUTES REMAINING The Whitmore Protocol was still moving forward. Victor looked at the numbers. “So the world will see the truth in about twelve hours.” Emma nodded slowly. “Yes.” Daniel leaned back in his chair. “That’s going to cause a lot of chaos.” Sophia crossed her arms.

| Whitney | Getting up before noon wasn't on the top of Whitney’s favorite to do list, but after worrying about Hollis off and on all night she’d only managed to get a whopping four consecutive hours of sleep- making it six A.M by the time she finally gave up and dragged her exhausted body into a hot shower. Leaning into the steady stream, Whitney rested her forehead against the white tiled wall, listening to Hollis’ voicemail play over and over from memory.

Adrian Whitmore hadn’t slept. He stood at his penthouse office, watching the city wake up at dawn. His reflection stared back at him with his tie loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up and his jaw tight with exhaustion and purpose. Arabella had been gone for twelve hours. Twelve hours of silence. Twelve hours of resisting the urge to call her, to go after her, to fix this. But he couldn’t fix what she wouldn’t let him touch. What he could fix was everything else.

I paused as I gazed at her. "Whenever you are ready to talk, I am always here for you. I have got your back anytime. You have to get up now and go and start your morning chores. You are way past your waking time," I said as I got up from the bed. *********** Whitney's POV "What is the time?" I asked. "It is a couple of minutes after six." "Oh, my goodness!" I exclaimed as I flung from my body the bed sheet which I used to cover myself. I sat up and glared at him.