Echoes Buried In Silence E-Book

J. A. Grayson

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 150

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

"Echoes Buried in Silence" is the gripping continuation of "Silent Shadows of Betrayal" —a suspense-filled journey of survival, revenge, and resilience that will leave readers breathless until the final page. Still haunted by the ghosts of her past, Amara finds herself in a situation that offers no safety, only shadows. Armed with her findings and a device that holds explosive secrets, and carrying the weight of betrayal from blood and bond alike, she is torn between exposing the truth… or disappearing with it forever. But the past refuses to stay buried. With enemies tracking her every move and a conspiracy reaching into the highest corridors of power, Amara learns the man who betrayed her family is not the only one with something to hide. Her missing father—a soldier buried by lies—may still be alive. And the price of finding him could be everything she has left. As danger circles closer and time slips away, Amara must confront the ones who destroyed her, protect the ones she still has left, and finally choose: justice, freedom, or the life she was forced to leave behind. Perfect for fans of psychological thrillers, suspense, slow-burn mysteries, and emotionally charged dramas, "Echoes Buried in Silence" dares to ask: How far would you go to reclaim your truth, your freedom… and the father they swore was dead?

Leseprobe

J. A. GRAYSON

Echoes Buried

In Silence

A Woman’s War to Uncover the Truth, Reclaim the Lost, Expose the Betrayal, and Live with the Ghosts of Her Past

© 2025 J. A. Grayson

Cover graphic by: JB.visuals & CANVA

Publishing label: JAG Story Books Publications.

Printing and distribution on behalf of the author: tredition GmbH, Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Germany.

This work, including its parts, is protected by copyright. The author is responsible for its content. Any use without his consent is prohibited. Publication and distribution are carried out on behalf of the author, who can be reached at: 4th floor JB House, 21 Street, J. A. Grayson, Calle do los Almendros 28029, Spain.

Contact address according to the EU Product Safety Regulation: [email protected]

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,

mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

J. A. Grayson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

J. A. Grayson has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of

URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks.

All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

(Part Two)

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy. Find out more at reedsy.com

EPIGRAPH

“Some truths never die—they bury themselves in silence, waiting for the brave to uncover them. When the world forces you into silence and love turns into a battlefield, truth retreats to places where no light dares to go.

But those who chase ghosts must be ready—because not all wish to be found.

Some betrayals don’t end with goodbye… they begin with it. And in the silence that follows, only the courageous dare to speak.”

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments6

Prologue

The Man In The Shadows

The Price Of Knowing

The Hunt Begins

The Bush That Turned Home

Whispers Of The Vanished

Betrayed By Blood

The Dead Don’t Speak—Or Do They?

A Dangerous Alliance

Into The Lion’s Den

A Face From The Past

The Walls Are Closing In

A Deal With The Devil

Shadows Of The Past

The Final Chase

The Last Betrayal

Epilogue

About The Author

Also by J. A. Grayson

Acknowledgments

I would like to express my deepest gratitude to the remarkable individuals whose guidance, creativity, and belief carried me through the heart of this story.

To John Brown, a brilliant author whose mastery of narrative and fearless pursuit of truth continue to sharpen my voice— you have been a steady compass in a world of shifting ideas. Your encouragement, honesty, and passion for storytelling remain a source of strength I return to often.

To Amanda Ezechukwu, an extraordinary playwright whose understanding of character, rhythm, and emotional depth has challenged and inspired me in ways I never expected. Your eye for drama and nuance brought layers to this story I could never have crafted alone. Thank you for always reminding me that behind every scene is a heartbeat.

To Mrs. Gina, author and publisher, whose guidance brought this vision to life. Your faith in this project and your commitment to helping stories like mine find their voice in the world has been invaluable. From manuscript to meaning, your steady hand never wavered.

This story may have begun with me, but it carries the spirit of each of you. It belongs to the voices between these pages, to those still waiting to be heard, and to friends like you who’ve shown me that storytelling is never a solitary journey.Thank you, from the depths of my heart!

Prologue

They told me he died.

They handed us a folded flag, a silent salute, and eyes that refused to meet ours.

They gave us words dressed in pity—“He served well,” “He was brave,” “He died for this country.” But I never saw a body.

And a bodyless funeral is just a lie wrapped in a coffin.

I was about twenty-two when they said my father was gone.

I got married to the man they said would “fix” me.

And in my mid-twenties when I realized that pain doesn’t knock—it moves in.

It eats your voice, sleeps in your spine, and whispers that silence is safer.

But silence is what killed him.

So, I started asking questions.

At first, small ones. Innocent. Harmless.

But in this world, truth is not harmless.

And once you lift one stone, you’ll find a dozen more hiding blood beneath.

My name is Amara.

Daughter of a soldier they tried to erase.

A girl they tried to marry into obedience and control.

A woman they couldn’t break.

Now I carry a secret device that can burn everything down.

And a name carved into my soul by a man who never stopped fighting.

Agu.

There are enemies I can see.

And some wearing my family’s skin.

But I’m not running anymore.

This time, I’m the one coming for them. And I won’t stop… Until I know the truth.

Or die with it.

Whichever comes first.

One

The Man In The Shadows

T

he next night after a long day, exhaustion weighed on me, but my mind refused to rest. The air inside the house felt tight, like the walls had closed in since the night before. My mother sat near the window, staring at nothing, her fingers pressing into the fabric of her wrapper as if she were trying to hold something steady.

I had uncovered something dangerous. And now, there was no turning back.

The letter and photograph lay on the small wooden table between us. They had been sitting there since last night, untouched, yet their presence felt heavy. My mother hadn’t said much since I showed them to her. The look in her eyes was enough—she had known, in some way, that my father’s disappearance was no accident. But knowing and seeing proof were two different things.

The night stretched long and restless, the kind where every creak of the wooden walls sounded like a warning. I had spent the entire day trying to piece things together, but the truth remained just out of reach, like a shadow that moved every time I got close.

Then came the knock.

Sharp. Measured.

My mother’s head snapped up. My fingers curled into fists.

No one knocked at this hour unless they came with bad intentions.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The oil lamp flickered, the dim light stretching our shadows against the walls. The knock came again—three times, slower this time.

I rose carefully, moving toward the door, my heart pounding against my ribs. My mother grabbed my wrist, her grip tight.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay calm. “I have to.”

She didn’t let go immediately, but she knew there was no stopping me.

I pressed my ear against the wooden door, listening. No voices. No shifting of feet. Just silence.

Then, a low voice from the other side. “Amara.” I froze.

Not many people called me by name. Not at this hour.

I hesitated, then slowly unlatched the door, opening it just wide enough to see.

He stood there, barely illuminated by the moonlight. The same man from before. The one who had saved me, who had given me the key to the locked room in Chijioke’s house.

Only now, his face was sharper, his posture tense.

“You need to leave,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

My breath caught. “Why?”

“They know.”

I felt my mother step closer behind me, her presence like a wall of fear pressing into my back.

I swallowed hard. “Who?”

He exhaled sharply, glancing over his shoulder, as if expecting someone to appear from the darkness. Then his gaze locked onto mine, intense and urgent.

“You don’t have time for questions.Pack what you need.

Leave before sunrise.”

My pulse quickened. “Tell me what’s happening.”

His jaw tightened. “They’ve been watching. Since the moment you left Chijioke’s house. Since you started asking

questions. Since you found that room.” A cold shiver ran down my spine.

I knew I had been watched. I had felt it for weeks—the lingering stares, the too-quiet moments in crowded places, the sense that I was never truly alone. But hearing it confirmed made it real in a way I wasn’t ready for.

“Who are they?” I whispered.

His eyes darkened. “The people who want the truth buried.

And they don’t care how deep they have to dig to do it.”

A sharp breath from behind me. My mother. I could feel her trembling now, though her voice remained steady.

“You’re asking her to run again,” she said.

The man’s gaze flickered to her. “I’m asking her to survive.” The weight of his words settled over me.

I had run before. From my marriage. From Chijioke’s house. From the city that tried to break me. But this time was different.

This time, I wasn’t just running to escape.

I was running because someone wanted me dead.

I forced myself to stand straighter, to push past the fear clawing at my throat. “I can’t leave without knowing why they took my father.”

The man exhaled, frustrated. “You won’t find the answers if you’re dead.”

I clenched my fists. “Then tell me what you know.” He hesitated, then stepped closer, his voice lowering.

“Your father was involved in something bigger than you realize. His disappearance wasn’t an accident. He knew something—something they never wanted to come to light. And now, because you’ve been digging, they think you know too.”

My mouth felt dry. “What did he know?”

He shook his head. “That’s what you have to find out.”

A wave of frustration burned through me. “How am I supposed to do that if I keep running?”

His expression hardened. “You don’t have a choice.” The silence stretched.

I could feel my mother’s eyes on me, her silent plea to stay, to choose safety.

But I couldn’t.

I had already stepped too far into the darkness to turn back now.

I lifted my chin. “Where do I go?”

Something flickered in his eyes—relief, maybe. Or regret.

“There’s a place,” he said finally. “A contact of your father’s. Someone who might have the answers you need. But you can’t trust anyone else.”

I nodded slowly. “What about my mother? My siblings?”

His expression darkened. “They’ll be safer if you’re not here.”

I turned to my mother, the weight of this moment pressing into my chest.

Her eyes were glassy, but she didn’t cry.

“You’re really leaving,” she whispered.

I stepped forward, taking her hands in mine. “I’ll come back.”

She squeezed them tightly. “You said that before.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “This time, I promise.”

She inhaled sharply, then nodded, pulling me into a fierce embrace. I held onto her, breathing in the scent of home, of comfort, of everything I was about to leave behind again.

The man shifted by the doorway, clearing his throat. “We need to go.”

I pulled away, forcing myself to step back. My mother let her hands drop to her sides, but her eyes never left mine. “Go, Amara,” she said softly. “Before I beg you to stay.” I nodded.

I turned to my siblings, who had woken up and were watching from the corner of the room, their small faces filled with confusion and fear.

My son was too deep into sleep, he couldn’t wake.

I crouched down, kissing their foreheads. “Be strong for Mama,” I whispered.

They nodded, but their eyes were wet, and it nearly broke me.

Then I stood, wrapping my wrapper tightly around me, shoving the letter and photograph into my bag.

I turned back to my mother one last time. “If anything happens—”

“I’ll protect them,” she said firmly.

I bit my lip, then turned toward the door.

The man gave me one final look before stepping into the night.

I followed.

The cold air hit me like a slap, but I forced my feet forward, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

I didn’t look back.

The road ahead was dark, stretching into the unknown.

But I wasn’t afraid anymore.

I had a name to clear.

A father to find.

And enemies to face.

No more running.

This time, I was chasing the truth.

The night swallowed us whole as we moved swiftly through the narrow paths leading out of the village. The man walked ahead, his strides long and sure, like someone who knew exactly where to step and where not to. I followed, my body tense, my ears sharp for any sign of danger.

The village was still, except for the occasional barking of a stray dog or the rustling of the wind through the trees. My mind raced with everything I had left behind—my mother’s trembling hands, my siblings’ wide, frightened eyes, the promise I had made to return.

Would I?

Or had I just walked into a fate worse than the one I was running from?

The man remained silent as we weaved through back roads, avoiding open spaces. He didn’t seem afraid, but there was an urgency in his movements that made my heart pound.

I quickened my steps until I was walking beside him. “Where exactly are we going?”

He didn’t slow down. “Somewhere safe.”

I scoffed, adjusting the small bag I had slung over my shoulder.

“I’ve been running for too long to believe in safe places.”

He turned his head slightly, as if studying me. “Then don’t think of it as safety. Think of it as an advantage.”

I frowned. “An advantage for what?”

“Finding the truth.”

The words hit me harder than I expected.

I had spent so much time trying to survive, trying to protect my family, that I had almost forgotten why I started this in the first place. My father. The secrets surrounding his disappearance. The betrayal that had stolen everything from us.

The letter. The photograph. The locked room.

Someone had been hiding the truth. And if what this man said was real, then I was now a target.

I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag. “Who are you?”

He let out a slow breath, finally stopping in the middle of the path. He turned to face me, his features shadowed by the dim moonlight filtering through the trees.

“A friend of your father’s,” he said. “The last one still willing to fight for him.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard. “You knew him?”

He nodded. “We served together. Until he disappeared.”

I searched his face for deception, but all I saw was something close to regret.

“Then tell me the truth,” I demanded. “Is he alive?”

The man hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know.”

My stomach dropped. “But you said—”

“I said they’re hiding something,” he cut in. “And if they’re still watching you, still trying to keep you quiet, then whatever happened to your father isn’t what they claimed.”

I clenched my fists. “Why now? Why show up after all this time?”

“Because you’re the first person who’s gotten close enough to the truth to make them nervous.” I felt my breath hitch.

The threats. The warnings. Chijioke’s strange confidence that I had nowhere to run.

It was all connected.

The man sighed, shifting his weight. “Listen to me, Amara. There’s someone who might have the answers you’re looking

for. But it won’t be easy. And it won’t be safe.”

I squared my shoulders. “I don’t care about easy. Just tell me what I want to know.”

He studied me for a long moment before nodding. “Then let’s move.”

And as the darkness stretched ahead of me, I knew one thing for sure.

This was only the beginning.

Two

The Price Of Knowing

H

e was a ghost, appearing when I least expected, knowing too much, never giving enough.

I clenched my fists.

Silence.

I took a step back, my body cold despite the humid night air.

“Who are they?”

His gaze flickered around us, scanning the trees as if expecting someone to emerge. “People who will do anything to keep the past buried.”

I gritted my teeth. “They already took my father. What more could they want?”

He exhaled. “To make sure you never find out why.”

A shiver ran down my spine. The warnings. The threats. The attack. Everything had been leading to this moment.

I swallowed hard. “And you? Why are you helping me?”

His face remained impassive. “Because I owe him, he saved my life once. And because I know what happens to people who go looking for answers alone.”

I studied him, searching for any sign of a lie. But there was nothing—just a quiet, unwavering certainty in his eyes.

I looked away, pressing my lips together. “If he’s alive, where is he?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “That’s what you need to find out.”

The frustration burned hotter. “So you don’t even know.”

“I know where to start.”

It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but it was the only one I had. I took a shaky breath. “Then let’s go.”

He nodded once, turning back toward the road. I followed, my mind spinning with everything I had just learned.