NovelEnglishCarol continued to chat with Maja, but this time, they ditched voice messages for good old-fashioned typing.
What a relief that Maja didn't bring up the Miller family, Carol thought. She had no idea how she'd explain that mess.
Maja had taken Beck's words to heart: if they needed help, she was there, but if they chose silence, there was little anyone could
do. They were adults; they knew the weight of their choices.
After responding to Carol's last message, Maja leaned back to rest. The room was cozy, the temperature just right, and Coco was
wagging its tail furiously nearby.
It had been ages since Maja had seen Coco, and she longed to pet her, but Beck was overly cautious, not letting any pets get too
close.
So, to keep Beck from worrying, Maja kept her distance from both Coco and Rocky, the aloof Siamese cat who seemed to look down
on everyone with a sort of detached disdain.
Coco had long accepted Rocky as the alpha, fawning over him shamelessly.
Maja sat by the window, a cashmere throw rug beneath her, hugging a pillow. A sudden drop in temperature had brought a flurry of
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtsnowflakes outside. She was tired of asking for updates on lan, knowing disappointment was the likely outcome.
With just a month until Christmas, she buried her face into the pillow and let out a soft sigh.
Meanwhile, at the Windhelm border, Abner sat in a chair, gunfire echoing around him. This shipment had proved trickier than
expected.
But crossing him? That was a death wish.
"Wipe them out," he commanded.
He was about to load his gun when the boat lurched violently beneath him.
Boom! Boom!
After two explosions, the boat quickly disintegrated, and Abner plunged into the depths below.
When he woke up, his chest was throbbing with pain.
"Don't move," a voice instructed, pressing down on his shoulders. "Took us ages to stop the bleeding. Don't start it up again."
Abner shoved the hands away and, bracing against the wall, he staggered to his feet.
"Where am I?"
His voice was hoarse, remembering only clinging to a piece of driftwood before blacking out.
"Fishing Village," the voice said. "My dad fished you out of the sea."
The air smelled of fish - this was no city, no town, but a fishing village.
He massaged his temple. "My phone?"
"Didn't see it. You had nothing on you but those clothes."
A young boy dashed out and brought in clothes drying on a rack, oblivious to the fine fabric's worth, only knowing they felt smooth
and comfortable.
Abner's face darkened. Betrayed by his own men, it seemed. A bomb planted, no less. They probably didn't expect him to survive.
"Handsman, you really shouldn't move," the boy cautioned. "My dad called Queena to treat you. She's a genius, you know,
just back from studying abroad."
Abner felt the weakness in his body, the room spinning.
The boy was sun-kissed, clearly no stranger to outdoor life, but his eyes were bright.
"If it weren't for my sis Queena, you'd be dead," he said, supporting Abner. "Dad thought you were a goner."
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmWithout a word, Abner sat back down, the dizziness overwhelming him.
Seeing blood seep through the bandages again, the boy shouted, "It's splitting open! I'll get Queena!"
He ran out toward a house up the slope, yelling, "Queena! Queena!"
Bursting into the room and finding it empty, he headed straight for the back.
In the back room, a man lay on the bed, only a side profile visible, but even that was startlingly striking.
What was happening to this village? Why were beautiful people suddenly appearing here?
And why hadn't Queena mentioned the foreign visitor to anyone? Did she want to keep him a secret?
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