The Grave of Secrets

The Grave of Secrets

Roldan Mccartney

5.0
Comment(s)
208
View
7
Chapters

A heavy rain washes away the buried male corpse in the cornfield. The murderer is quickly caught. Only I notice something's off- someone is missing. Ten years later, the people from the past reunite, and rotting oranges are hard to emit a fragrance. The regrets of ten years ago, this time, I will personally deliver judgment.

Chapter 1

**Introduction:**

A heavy rainstorm unearthed the body of a boy buried in the cornfield.

The murderer was quickly apprehended.

Only I noticed something was wrong,

Someone was missing.

Ten years later, the past resurfaces,

A rotten apple spoils the barrel.

The regrets of ten years ago,

This time, I will personally judge.

(1)

"Recently, after a heavy rain, a resident discovered a male corpse in the cornfield. According to the forensic examination, the boy was only fifteen years old, and his death was tragic, with multiple wounds on his body."

"The deceased, identified as Roger, was a student at Willowbrook High School..." The computer played a news report, one that was already ten years old.

In the news, the boy's fingers and hair were faintly visible in the soil, mixed with dark red blood.

Over the past ten years, I often replayed this news report, as if it had become a habit.

I am a teacher at Willowbrook High School, and the boy in the news was my student.

I picked up my coffee mug and walked to the window.

Outside, there was an endless stretch of cornfield.

The lush green leaves, interspersed with golden tassels, swayed in the wind, pulling my thoughts into memories.

That year, I was twenty-five, having just started my career.

Roger was among the first batch of students I taught.

From the moment he entered the classroom, I noticed him. He was tall and well-groomed.

His bright eyes looked at you with a thirst for knowledge.

He studied diligently and meticulously completed everything assigned by the teachers.

He was polite and excelled in his studies.

I believed he was the kind of student every teacher loved.

His homeroom teacher mentioned that Roger's family was not well-off; otherwise, they would have transferred him to a school in the city long ago.

Roger was particularly mature, never causing his parents any worry.

His clothes were always clean and well-kept, even if they were old.

Every teacher who mentioned him couldn't help but express their fondness.

Such a child, I don't know from which point, his grades suddenly started to decline.

Then one day, he disappeared from the class.

I never saw this student again.

I inquired with his homeroom teacher, but he didn't know either.

It seemed as if he had vanished overnight.

When Roger reappeared, it was the scene in the news.

Who could have imagined that the child who had smiled and greeted me just a few days ago would become a cold corpse lying in the soil?

During that period, my dreams were filled with the image of Roger lying in the soil.

The damp, muddy soil, mixed with dark red blood.

The murderer was quickly caught.

I heard it was two boys from the neighboring class.

They had often bullied Roger before, and for some unknown reason, they suddenly killed him brutally.

They even dug a pit in the cornfield a day in advance.

Alas, such a tragedy.

The homeroom teacher of the neighboring class said so.

Since then, every autumn, when I see the vast, dense cornfield outside the school, I always think of Roger.

That child who died.

(2)

I had just finished a class and sat down to take a sip of my drink.

Today, I taught the students "The Old Man and the Sea," a text I particularly liked.

Everyone's journey to adulthood is a solitary one.

The office door creaked open, and a head peeked in.

"Mr. Qin!" Then several more students, whom I had taught before, came in.

They gathered around me, eagerly sharing updates about their lives.

They had grown up and started entering society. I was touched that they remembered to come back and see me.

For a moment, it felt like time had returned to ten years ago.

"By the way, Mr. Qin, you wouldn't know this, but Alexandra is back, and you will soon be colleagues!" Vickie said from the side.

This truly surprised me.

"Back then, she was closest to Albin and Gregg. The incident hit her hard. I didn't expect her to choose to return."

As soon as I spoke, the office fell silent.

Vickie forced a smile.

"Mr. Qin, it's been so many years. Both of them have been released and started new lives..."

I don't remember when they left, but Vickie's words kept echoing in my mind.

The killers had been released and had started new lives, but the victim's life was forever frozen at fifteen.

That was Roger's lonely journey, one that never went far.

"By the way, why didn't Alexandra come?" "Oh, she said she felt embarrassed. Anyway, you'll see her in a couple of days."

Continue Reading

Other books by Roldan Mccartney

More
Unmasking A Monster: My Husband's Lies

Unmasking A Monster: My Husband's Lies

Modern

5.0

After we made love, my husband Ethan always did the same thing: he'd pull out papers for me to sign, saying it was just business. I trusted him completely, signing without reading, believing he was handling the boring paperwork so I could focus on my tech company. Then, one night, I heard him on the phone with his childhood friend, Sarah Jenkins. "It' s done, Sarah. I got the last signature." They were draining my accounts, framing me for fraud, and planning to leave me bankrupt and facing prison. My world shattered. This wasn' t just about money; they had meticulously planned this revenge for five years, fueled by a petty college misunderstanding. Every kiss, every "I love you" had been a calculated lie. The man I married was a monster. The betrayal deepened when I discovered I was pregnant. Before I could process the news, Ethan, knowing how my absence for doctor' s appointments would raise questions, took me to the hospital, ostensibly for confirmation. But on the way, he sped up, deliberately causing a car crash that made me lose our baby. Temporarily blinded by the impact and drowning in grief, I was coerced into signing away everything, believing they were insurance forms. It wasn't an accident. I overheard him tell Sarah, "The accident worked perfectly… No more baby to complicate things." He murdered our child. How could the man I loved, the father of my child, be such a cold, calculating killer? How could I have been so blind, so trusting? My love had been his weapon, and his every act, a betrayal beyond imagination. But they had underestimated me. I was Chloe Miller, CEO. And I wasn' t just a broken woman; I was a woman scorned, ready for war.

You'll also like

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Temple Madison
5.0

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book