Chapter 3: “Whispers of Conspiracy”

A Minor Job, a Major Gut Feeling

Chapter 1: “Dockside Ghosts”

Arrival at the Dock

The shuttle's recycled air tasted of protein slurry and something metallic—burnt capacitors, perhaps. A soft, low hum from the engines shook the shuttle. With every breath, Lena’s perfume—a bittersweet lavender ghost—clung to the air, triggering a phantom ache in my chest. I reached beneath my shirt, fingers brushing the outline of the Star of David pendant. My mother’s gift. A small, silent comfort in the rising tide of unease.

I rushed to the music hall, grabbed my bass from Mr. Smith and went into the empty studio used for small ensembles or practice for electric instruments. It was almost soundproof inside and I would take that to my advantage to run scales and patterns. I strapped my wood grain bass over me and started to play a somber sounding melody, at least I liked to think it was.

Bianca returns to Chicago for Thanksgiving and finds a few surprises awaiting her.

http://whateleyacademy.net/index.php

“ . . . if I measure myself against AJ, I might call myself a failure, just like you’re doing right now. That wouldn’t be fair, and more importantly, it wouldn’t be true. We’ve had our own struggles, just to get where we are.”

©2025 SammyC

Chapter 22

Willow spent a little while looking at her course notes and the subjects that would round out the year in Music Studies. The first half was called Remix, and the second half was Gamelan, with a group performance listed. She looked up the instruments in a Gamelan band, finding that most of them were percussion, and generally hit with a hammer. That, she thought, may be a hilarious way to end second year.

The End of the Cold
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

She knew what it was. The drug had that effect. One minute you are walking down the street and the next minute a sharp pain in the neck, you feel woozy, and then blackness. And then the recovery is like this was – just fuzzy images and slight dizziness and then you can focus.

It was the living room of the apartment she had rented right in the middle of the small French town. But she had been brought here – up from the street perhaps.

CHAPTER 88
“Did she check in?”

The woman tapped at her terminal, frowning slightly.

“Yes. She booked the ticket, paid for it, checked in online, and that is the last interaction I can find, Mr Rhodes”

“Do you have a number for the office in KL?”

“I can ring them for you, sir”