Sheelagh Sexton
14 Published Stories
Sheelagh Sexton's Books and Stories
The Comeback Engineer: No More Second Chances
Modern At NovaFlight Dynamics, I was "the guy who couldn't get his fiancée to the altar." Alex Miller. My fiancée, Jessica Thorne, a co-founder, had canceled our wedding thirty-two times. I poured my genius into NovaFlight' s critical satellite launch, always putting her first, even as the 33rd date loomed.
She canceled again, for Leo Maxwell, a junior engineer. That night, at the pre-launch party, Jessica, radiant, openly fed Leo a canapé. He flashed a new luxury smartwatch, mirroring hers. On our seven-year anniversary, Leo's Instagram showed them clinking champagne glasses: "Celebrating a successful partnership!"
I resigned, publicly terminating our engagement. Jessica, smelling of Leo' s cologne, abandoned me for his 'crisis.' My engagement ring? Tossed aside. I threw it in the trash. At the office, Leo 'accidentally' destroyed my personal research laptop with corrosive solvent. Jessica witnessed it, then shrieked, blaming me and demanding I credit Leo for my groundbreaking designs.
My very dignity was systematically dismantled. My dedication, my love, my future-all casually destroyed. The future she spoke of was a cruel, hollow joke.
A dark government vehicle waited. I powered down my old phone as her casual 'raincheck' text buzzed one last time. I stepped into the car without a single look back. This wasn't an end; it was finally, unequivocally, my beginning. Beyond His Billion Dollar Regret
Romance My fiancé, Arthur Mckay, had just beaten leukemia. A bone marrow transplant saved his life, and we were supposed to be planning our engagement party, celebrating our future.
Then she walked in. Diana, the donor's beautiful, fragile ex-girlfriend. Arthur became obsessed, claiming he had "cellular memory" and that the donor's cells were compelling him to protect her.
He postponed our wedding plans for her. He let her invade our home, touching my art, sleeping in my robe. He called me possessive and cruel when I protested. The man who once promised to cherish me was gone, replaced by a stranger who used a medical procedure as an excuse for his cruelty.
The final straw was my mother's locket, the only thing I had left of her. Diana saw it and decided she wanted it, weeping that her dead boyfriend had owned one just like it.
When I refused, Arthur's face hardened. "Don't be a child," he ordered. "Give it to her."
He didn't wait for my answer. He strode forward and ripped the chain from my neck, the metal stinging my skin.
He fastened my mother's locket around Diana's throat. "This is a punishment, Ella," he said calmly. "Maybe now you'll learn some compassion."
As he wrapped a protective arm around her and led her away, I knew the man I loved was truly dead. I picked up my phone, my decision made.
"Dad," I said, my voice steady. "I'm coming home." Love, Lies, and a Fatal Dog
Romance My world shattered with a frantic phone call: my mother had been attacked by a dog. I rushed to the emergency room, only to find her gravely injured, and my fiancé, Cohen, dismissive and annoyed.
He arrived in his expensive suit, barely glancing at my bleeding mother before complaining about his interrupted meeting. "What's all the fuss? I was in the middle of a meeting." He then shockingly defended the dog, Caesar, belonging to his childhood friend Hillary, claiming it was "just playful" and my mother "probably scared him."
The doctor spoke of "severe lacerations" and infection, but Cohen only saw an inconvenience. Hillary, the dog's owner, appeared, feigning concern while smirking triumphantly at me. Cohen wrapped an arm around her, declaring it "not your fault, Hillary. It was an accident." He then announced he was still going on his "billion-dollar business trip" to Zurich, telling me to send the hospital bill to his assistant.
Two days later, my mother died from the infection. While I was arranging her funeral, picking out her burial clothes, and writing a eulogy I couldn't read, Cohen was unreachable. His phone was off.
Then, an Instagram notification popped up: a picture of Cohen and Hillary on a yacht in the Maldives, champagne in hand, with the caption: "Living the good life in the Maldives! Spontaneous trips are the best! #blessed #zurichwho?" He wasn't on a business trip. He was on a lavish vacation with the woman whose dog had killed my mother.
The betrayal was a physical blow. All his promises, his love, his concern-all lies. Kneeling at my mother's grave, I finally understood. My sacrifices, my hard work, my love-all for nothing. He had abandoned me in my darkest hour for another woman. It was over. Rebirth: A Sister's Betrayal
Fantasy The sound of the front door opening was a nightmare come true-my younger sister, Emily, stood there, not alone, but holding a baby in a cheap pink blanket.
"Surprise! Meet Leo. He' s the newest addition to the Miller family legacy," she announced, her voice sickeningly carefree, echoing the very words that had derailed my life in a past I' d already lived.
My blood ran cold; this exact moment, this casual act of irresponsibility, had led directly to my death before.
My parents, blinded by affection, embraced the child and Emily' s monstrous lie, turning their backs on my desperate pleas for reason.
Consumed by a terrible sense of déjà vu, I remembered the blinding pain, the darkness that consumed me when Emily, armed with one of my own sculptures, ended my previous life for simply asking her to be responsible.
But this time, I wouldn't be the martyr-this time, the cycle would break, and Emily would pay.' Divorce Over Two-Fifty
Modern "That will be two dollars and fifty cents," the ice cream vendor chirped, a cheerful end to a warm afternoon.
My daughter, Lily, beamed up at me, eyes wide for a rainbow-sprinkled cone.
But before my fingers found my wallet, a cold voice cut through the air.
"What do you think you' re doing, Ava?"
It was Leo, my husband, arms crossed, face a mask of disapproval.
He shamed me, publicly, over two dollars and fifty cents.
"It' s the principle," he snapped, throwing a five-dollar bill at the vendor. "Consider this an advance. Transfer me one dollar and twenty-five cents by tonight. I' ll be checking."
My face burned, my heart twisting as Lily clung to me.
That night, I overheard his voice, warm and indulgent, on the phone.
"Of course, Sophia. You liked the red one? I' ll have it delivered to your new place tomorrow."
He was buying his stepsister a penthouse, showering her with gifts, yet demanding I pay for half of our daughter' s ice cream.
The contrast was a physical blow. His love, his generosity, was for someone else.
Later, in my small art studio, I typed a search: "divorce papers."
I downloaded the forms, each keystroke heavy, final.
When I placed the stack on his nightstand, he finally looked up, disbelief twisting his face into an ugly laugh.
"A divorce? Don' t be ridiculous. Is this about the car I bought Sophia? Are you that jealous?"
"It' s about the ice cream," I said, my voice steady, empty of the tears I' d held back all day.
He scoffed, tossing the papers aside.
"The ice cream? You want to end our marriage over two dollars and fifty cents? Ava, you' re being hysterical."
He didn't know yet. This wasn't hysteria. It was the quiet, steel-edged birth of a rebellion. Revenge Wears A New Face
Billionaires For five years, I was Julian Vance' s shadow, known only as his fiercely loyal assistant, but my dedication was a meticulously crafted lie.
My real mission was to avenge my sister, Sarah, an environmental activist Julian' s company silenced after she uncovered their toxic secrets.
Today, I walked out, my resignation a symbol of triumph as I held the USB drive with the evidence that would finally expose him at his grand charity gala.
But then, as I stood ready to unleash the truth, I instinctively shoved him from the path of a falling stage light, shattering my hand, my ribs, and my five-year plan.
Instead of gratitude, I received his cold dismissal, then Julian' s glamorous fiancée, Isabella, ordered his security to drown me, leaving me for dead in a freezing warehouse.
Julian, seeing me struggle, simply watched Isabella whisper in his ear before they turned their backs and walked away, abandoning me without a second thought.
I survived, only to have Julian demand I cover up his complicity, publicly discrediting me as "reckless" while Isabella played the hero and he played the concerned boss.
Why did he abandon me like a broken doll, only to then use my pain for his public image?
I was invisible, disposable, and I knew then that the truth wasn't enough; my revenge would be a personal one, meticulously planned.
I disappeared, only to be dragged back to a horrifying auction where Julian and Isabella sold me like property, but I refused to be his victim any longer.
My carefully built facade of loyalty shattered, not just for him, but for myself; I was done fighting his battles, living in his shadow, and now, finally, I was going to live for me. Seeing True, Seeing Deep
Romance The world was an ugly place, full of bland perfection, but I saw beauty in decay-a dead pigeon, a cracked wall.
Everyone else called my unique perception disgusting; it cost me my job at the bakery for finding art in a burnt loaf.
Now, an eviction notice on my door threatened to take my apartment, pushing me to the brink of despair.
Why was my genuine appreciation for the world' s true textures met with such revulsion, forcing me into a corner for simply seeing differently?
Then, a bizarre ad for "Crimson Peak Apartments" appeared, promising a "unique living environment" at an unbelievably low price, compelling me to take a chance on a place as strange as my own heart. The Billionaire's Fury
Billionaires I was on my private Caribbean island, living the dream retirement of a tech billionaire, confident my gentle son, Caleb, was safe at home in Palo Alto, surrounded by the loyal friends I' d funded and cherished. I' d built a fortress of care for him.
Then, a garish headline flashed on my screen: "SILICON VALLEY HEIR CALEB HUGHES, 18, TO WED REAL ESTATE SHARK DEBRA CLARKSON, 55. A LOVE STORY OR A HOSTILE TAKEOVER?" The accompanying photo showed my son, pale and lost, next to a woman old enough to be his grandmother, her hand possessively on his shoulder. My blood ran cold; this wasn't possible.
I immediately flew home, my fury matched only by a growing dread. The moment I stepped onto my estate, a familiar, toxic fescue grass covered the lawn – a severe allergen for Caleb – and the faces awaiting me were smug, not worried. Andrew, the son of my late partner, and the three girls I' d raised like my own, smirked, talking about Caleb's "scandal" and how they were "managing" his impending forced marriage to Debra Clarkson.
My heart shattered as Caleb limped down the stairs, gaunt, covered in an allergic rash, his eyes hollow. They claimed his injuries were from a skateboarding accident and self-harm, that he was "difficult" and "infertile," spinning a web of lies to blame him for his own torment. How could the people I trusted betray us so completely? Why would they do this to an innocent boy?
But when Debra Clarkson brazenly walked in, and she and Andrew openly planned to take over my family and fortune, then dared to lay a hand on my son, something snapped. They thought I was a washed-up genius on an island. They were about to learn Nathaniel Hughes was far from finished. The Widow's Deadly Secret
Horror Six months into rebuilding her life, single mom Sarah is proposed to by Mark, a kind widower.
Her heart, long dormant, finally warms as Mark proposes, surrounded by their hopeful children.
But then, a terrifying premonition: a camping trip with Mark's daughter, Lily, turns deadly as Lily summons hordes of venomous spiders to kill Sarah and her son, Leo, coldly whispering, "No one gets to be Daddy's favorite but me and my real mom."
Sarah gasps awake, back at the proposal, the chilling memory of venom and Lily' s malevolence still vivid.
With a shudder, Sarah rejects Mark, baffling him and infuriating his family, who brand her cruel, while Lily's angelic facade cracks to reveal a glimpse of pure, icy fury.
Lily, however, won't be deterred; she stalks Sarah, hacking Leo's smartwatch and staging a manipulative late-night scene that traps Sarah into letting her inside.
The nightmare escalates when Lily kidnaps Leo from his after-school program, and Sarah discovers Mark's shocking history: all his previous girlfriends, and even his wife, died from mysterious "spider bites."
Sarah' s confusion turns into a cold fury, realizing Mark isn't just oblivious but complicit, enabling his daughter's monstrous trail of victims.
Lily' s voice, relayed by a tarantula-borne recorder, demands Sarah come alone to an abandoned quarry, threatening Leo with a spider attack.
Knowing the police will only escalate the danger, Sarah races towards the quarry, ready to face the truth and fight for her son' s life. The Heiress They Tried to Bury
Billionaires For three years, I poured every ounce of myself into Liam's tech dream, working multiple jobs to keep a roof over our heads.
Tonight was the night I'd finally tell him my own life-altering secret: I was Ava Vance, the long-lost, presumed-dead heiress to the colossal Sterling-Vance empire.
I believed in him, utterly.
But he didn't walk in alone.
He arrived with a stunning, polished woman named Chloe, arm-in-arm, and then dropped the bomb: she was his fiancée, and her father was his lead investor.
He looked at me, his eyes cold and dismissive.
"I'm leaving you," he stated flatly, then mocked our entire relationship, calling me just a "housekeeper" and an "embarrassment."
When Chloe spilled wine on herself, Liam forced me to my knees to apologize to her like a maid.
The ultimate betrayal came when he returned later, poisoned me to destroy my voice, and dragged my limp body into our cold, damp basement dungeon to keep me quiet.
From my prison, I overheard them coldly plotting to frame me as delusional and commit me to a psychiatric hospital forever.
The man I had loved and sacrificed everything for was a monster, systematically ripping away my very existence.
Every lie, every calculated cruelty, twisted into a horrifying full picture.
But they seriously underestimated the woman they thought they'd silenced.
Just as two thugs came to haul me away, I found the strength to activate the emergency beacon hidden in my Sterling-Vance necklace.
They believed I was a "lost cause," but they were about to face the terrifying wrath of the Sterling-Vance empire. The Billionaire's Deadly Game
Romance Ava Miller was a rising Hollywood starlet, on the verge of landing her dream role in a major film, with her supportive producer boyfriend, Ethan Reed, by her side.
She believed he was her rock, her unwavering champion in a cutthroat industry.
Suddenly, a bombshell from TMZ exploded: "EXCLUSIVE: Rising Star Ava Miller's Wild Night Out - Intimate Photos Leaked!"
Ava' s stomach dropped, but the true terror struck when she overheard Ethan, her supposed protector, confessing to orchestrating the entire smear campaign, designed to ruin her and clear the path for another actress.
Her reputation was instantly shattered, her dream role snatched away. Ethan then paraded his new muse, Isabelle Vance, publicly, openly mocking Ava.
His betrayals escalated to chilling cruelty: allowing Isabelle to destroy Ava's cherished family heirloom, gifting Ava a "healing" cream secretly designed to permanently scar her face, and in a twisted act of horror, facilitating the amputation of Ava's finger as a transplant for Isabelle after a set fire.
Amidst this escalating torment, Ava' s memories of a past life shattered her reality. She was his wife then, too, but he was always obsessed with Isabelle.
Now reborn, Ethan was brutally replaying that obsession, deliberately using Ava as a disposable pawn, inflicting unimaginable pain to "correct" his past.
The depth of his malice was incomprehensible, a cold fury consuming her.
But from the ashes of her destroyed life, Ava chose to rise.
She underwent reconstructive surgery, embraced a new identity as Eve Ashton, and meticulously planned her escape to London, vowing to forge a new, unburdened existence, free from Ethan' s suffocating, toxic grasp. From Ghost to King: The Montgomery's Vengeance
Billionaires I'm Ethan Montgomery, son of tech moguls.
In a life I barely lived, I extended naive kindness to Kyle Johnson, our housekeeper's son, by giving him a supplementary Amex card. A small help, I thought.
He used it like a magic wand. Kyle became the campus philanthropist, "donating" labs and AC with my money. He'd smirk, making me feel indebted for letting him build his empire using my funds.
It climaxed when he claimed my cherry-red graduation muscle car. When I tried to tell the truth, his "fans" turned, screaming, "Liar! Thief!" They shoved me, fists flew. My reputation shattered. I became a pariah.
I gathered proof to expose him. But Kyle couldn't let his world crumble.
His aunt, a construction manager, violently swerved her truck into my car.
Metal screamed. Glass shattered.
Pain, then darkness.
Kyle, my "grieving best friend," then stole my entire inheritance, my life.
A gasp tore from my throat. My eyes snapped open.
I was in the university conference room.
Dean Thompson beamed, Kyle Johnson, triumphant, signed the "Innovation Lab" agreement.
The exact moment.
This time? My fingers, steady, fumbled for my phone. "Supplementary cards. Kyle Johnson. Deactivate. Confirm." Waking Up to Her True Face
Romance Ethan Miller, a Seattle software architect, woke in a cold sweat, his heart hammering. His wife, Olivia, slept peacefully beside him, unaware.
The calendar showed it was ten years earlier, their first year of marriage, but he’d just lived through a terrifying premonition: Olivia, supposedly dead for two years, reappeared in an Alaskan lodge with another man, Liam, confessed a harrowing regret, then died again.
The dream's raw pain and phantom ache of betrayal clung to him, chilling his once-normal mornings.
Soon, the nightmare began to bleed into his present. Olivia's late nights grew more frequent, her phone calls hushed. He caught glimpses of a new, unfamiliar perfume.
Then, the undeniable truth: witnessing her outside an upscale restaurant, laughing intimately with a young man, Liam Vance, his heart-stoppingly familiar face mirroring the one in his dream.
A small park rendezvous sealed it—a public, passionate kiss, Liam’s smug gaze, Olivia captivated. The illusion of his loving wife shattered with sickening finality.
But the worst was yet to come. Hiding in plain sight, Ethan overheard Olivia giddily discussing Liam, dismissing him as "boring," and chillingly, casually discussing his life insurance policy. "Enough to start fresh, really fresh."
His blood ran cold. The woman he had adored, trusted implicitly, was gone, replaced by a calculating stranger.
All he felt was a profound, wrenching injustice, a searing bewilderment. He was a fool.
But Olivia’s contempt and calculated cruelty would not go unpunished. No longer a naive, trusting fool, Ethan, armed with this terrifying future knowledge, made a quiet, chilling decision.
He picked up his phone, his fingers trembling, and called his shrewd Aunt Carol in London. It was time to orchestrate his own disappearance, to rewrite his destiny. The Wolf King's Life As An Olympian
Modern Sure! Here’s the translation:
---
I am a wolf from the north, but unexpectedly, I became a bench player who didn't make it to the Olympics.
"They're crawling, why are they so slow?"
Audience: "Did he install a motor? This speed is insane!"
National sprint team coach: "Switch events, he's a good prospect!"
After being eliminated, everyone was waiting for me to voluntarily leave the team.
But in a friendly match, when I got on as a substitute, I ran like the wind and scored wildly.
From then on, I soared to new heights and was promoted to team captain.
Until the off-season when I was dragged into a reality show.
Netizens: "Help! Please blur his voice and face, and his abs!"
"Get away, hubby! I want to have your baby!"
I retweeted and tagged the new TV queen, "Sorry, in our wolf clan, we practice lifelong monogamy."
---
Let me know if you need anything else! You might like
Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken." The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback
Huo Wuer Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty.
When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn.
Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance.
Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room.
How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice.
I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for.
I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten. Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback
Huo Wuer Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic.
Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold.
"Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'"
The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip.
Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet.
I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child.
But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame.
"I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done."
I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down. Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable
Lila Rivers Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past.
On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse.
But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened.
Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation.
***
Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail.
But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world." 
/0/81035/coverorgin.jpg?v=a9c54ebd2d9b24b79805a0d6bfb86af4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90171/coverorgin.jpg?v=026072e890c2abd8d6af66db61dd35b4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/87963/coverorgin.jpg?v=e9c0a8e38c0339ab258a0fc169a58997&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86603/coverorgin.jpg?v=e03f8711d5d3551ca46743c84f42cb31&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85357/coverorgin.jpg?v=161f29842222ca601bcad54e649ba50a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85020/coverorgin.jpg?v=7272354230b5bc28b6dacccfec231c5c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84804/coverorgin.jpg?v=581f92ea64629f8b52cc074944537211&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84339/coverorgin.jpg?v=785e9b2116c69d32fc1b376e46e9ee93&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83711/coverorgin.jpg?v=958dbcad35395fec45c279990b239492&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83430/coverorgin.jpg?v=dcda3d32296b5f14ef324140ea043388&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82906/coverorgin.jpg?v=bc5d72bc890e882ff42eb6418ac20085&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82566/coverorgin.jpg?v=9ec647bb4266a74d614863f828042863&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80033/coverorgin.jpg?v=01133db668cc4527221f648ed1551cf0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/61275/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c15755b0dfdec9a69eec94c23840e24&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/77278/coverorgin.jpg?v=e33b5a48fd64490b6c3dab31c8798b9a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/78663/coverorgin.jpg?v=b705411c5144e51405caa1dd738aa5d2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81650/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e4487b5edd0ed017fe09f8ca0166339&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/71279/coverorgin.jpg?v=9e49a76b6b5eef1f9b662f77b9729717&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/87013/coverorgin.jpg?v=03a545cda7f62154e8e6e3fea8e07fc4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86395/coverorgin.jpg?v=55bb4b33b13d15db79b49aea662af755&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105404/coverorgin.jpg?v=d939c1a8d0134274943ca633deea3ff2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105057/coverorgin.jpg?v=202d59641d5f8e56e9f4255b2bc60b1e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/75796/coverorgin.jpg?v=7fa49608a32ed5c0cfde642b9545384e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/92811/coverorgin.jpg?v=e6a58467c814dabe499538a9b77737c3&imageMogr2/format/webp)