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Forty-Nine Books, One Reckoning

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 1060    |    Released on: 23/09/2025

he scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled the air. I walked d

illows surrounding a simple granite bench. On the bench was a small, bronze

bed soil, was a small, ornate marble

walked closer and read the

iend and a cherished soul. Reun

love? What did that e

ng a small, velvet-covered box. She was dressed in black, a theatrical performance of mou

Juliet's face tightened, her ma

is voice strained. "Wh

I said, my voice dangerously q

just helping me, Anya. It's a difficult day for me." She gestured

emetery," I said, lo

er voice dripping with false sympathy. "And I know y

on of my dead mother's name, use

think.

marble slab. It wasn't heavy.

What are you doi

aid, my voice shaking with fury. I

hands up in a placating gesture, the same one he used in town ha

e sound echoing in the quiet grove. "She is d

tching the velvet box to her chest. "It's a

k a step toward her,

et is just upset. Her cat died.

you lie to my face, you buy her a condo with our money, and now you stand here in my

ale. He looked from

a cold-hearted bitch," she wept. "You've always been jealous

t. "He's not happy. He's we

p that plaque from the ground and smash it to pie

g a scene!" he hissed, his p

oved, and felt nothing but contempt. "This marriage is a

him dead

ow morning. And trust me, the story of the mayoral candidate who let his mistress defi

s the only thing that could reach him. He knew I c

onfusion and fear. "Jules, maybe we shoul

her tears suddenly stopping. Her

er place. A better one," he s

him off. "I wa

rk playing on her lips.

more firmly. "Juli

he went, but she looked back over her shoulder at

desecrated grove. The overturned marble sl

ulled out my phone. I dialed t

sh in the memorial grove that needs to be removed

of metal caught my eye. It was near the base

plaque, smaller and newer. It had already bee

ting for Juliet at

than before. She hadn't just brought a plaqu

ove, my heels digging into the soft earth, my he

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Forty-Nine Books, One Reckoning
Forty-Nine Books, One Reckoning
“My husband, Arthur, had a pattern. He would cheat, I would find out, and a rare book would appear on my shelf. Forty-nine betrayals, forty-nine expensive apologies. It was a transaction: my silence for a beautiful object. But the forty-ninth was the last straw. He skipped my dying father' s award ceremony-a promise he made while holding his hand-to buy a condo for his high school sweetheart, Juliet. The lie was so casual it broke me more than the affair. Then he took her to my mother' s memorial garden. He stood there while she tried to erect a monument for her dead cat next to my mother' s bench. When I confronted them, he had the nerve to ask me for compassion. "Let's show a little compassion," he said. Compassion for the woman desecrating my mother' s memory. Compassion for the woman he' d told about our miscarriage, a sacred grief he' d shared like a dirty secret. I realized then that this wasn't just about a broken heart. This was about dismantling the lie I helped him build. That night, while he slept, I installed a bug on his phone. I' m a political strategist. I' ve ruined careers with far less. The fiftieth book wouldn't be his apology. It would be my closing statement.”
1 Chapter 12 Chapter 23 Chapter 34 Chapter 45 Chapter 56 Chapter 67 Chapter 78 Chapter 8