Horror Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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A Husband’s Rage, A Wife’s Betrayal
My life with Olivia Hayes was the dream I' d chased since I was a boy. We had it all: a sprawling house I designed, two beautiful children, Lily and Leo, and a brilliant wife. Then, on a Tuesday night during the worst blizzard in fifty years, our perfect world shattered when Olivia, in a fit of rage, locked our three-year-old twins outside in their thin pajamas. I begged, I pleaded, I offered myself in their place, but she only sneered, shoving me back as she dragged my screaming children into the snow, the lock clicking behind them. Trapped in the basement, I heard their cries fade, replaced by a terrifying silence. When the door finally opened in the morning, Olivia stood perfectly dressed, while my children lay huddled outside, two frozen, broken dolls. "She murdered them," ran through my head, but her mother, Mrs. Hayes, urged silence, whispering of shock and family reputation. Then Olivia' s cold, businesslike voice on the phone: "Did you talk to Ethan? Is he going to be reasonable? I have a board meeting in an hour… tell him the family will compensate him generously. He can name his price." And then, casually, asking about Marcus, her COO. The realization hit me: this wasn' t just about old family hatred; it was about him, and her calculating indifference. Days later, at our home, Marcus Green, her lover, stood in what used to be my children' s playroom, ordering workers to trash their toys as he gloated, "Olivia is pregnant, you know. My child, this time. A real heir.\" He called my children' s precious belongings "garbage," announcing their baby would be in Lily and Leo's room. My heart, a dead stone for days, exploded into white-hot rage, and I lunged. As I held a crumpled drawing of our once-perfect family, Olivia returned, unimpressed, dismissing their belongings as "just stuff" and their deaths as "an accident." "It' s bad luck to have things from the dead in the house when you' re expecting," she said, protecting her belly. As I was forcibly restrained, watching them empty my children' s lives into garbage bags, I knew then what I had to do. I signed the divorce papers, disconnected my number, and vanished, leaving her to face the desolate silence of a house where I would never return./0/61155/coverorgin.jpg?v=48d352bdc904ff943cc90405cc1ac3a2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Silkworm Woman
Here’s the translation: "If there were a piece of clothing that you could wear to effortlessly become the person who got the highest score on the SAT, would you do it? My mother is a silkworm woman; the silk she produces is made into clothing that can turn even a fool into the person who got the highest score on the SAT. As a result, our village became famous far and wide as Genius Village, but they didn’t realize that the eyes of those children were gradually becoming vacant."/0/88688/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106213356&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unshakeable Queen Returns
I came home from a business trip, and my husband told me our six-year-old son was dead. He showed me the dashcam footage of Leo dying of heatstroke, left alone in the car by his young nanny, Kendall. But instead of seeking justice, my husband locked me in the car and turned the heat on full blast, recreating our son's final moments. He demanded the password to my phone to delete the footage, snarling that we couldn't ruin a twenty-year-old's future over a "mistake." To force my hand, he had thugs break into my elderly father's nursing home room, threatening him on a live video call. Later, at our son's memorial, he defended Kendall as she took selfies with the casket and played pop music. He helped her show a manipulated video to the crowd, painting me as a negligent, career-obsessed mother. The mourners threw drinks at me while my husband protected his lover. The next day, I learned the truth. My father, after being blackmailed by those same thugs, had taken his own life to protect me. My husband hadn't just covered up a murder; he had caused another. He thought he had won, that he had destroyed all the evidence and broken me completely. But he forgot one thing. The GPS smartwatch on our son's wrist. It recorded everything—not just his death, but every cruel, taunting word Kendall whispered as she let him die./0/17979/coverorgin.jpg?v=4d2e0247c45f164c11f34d4eaf12ea5b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Dangerous Detoxification
(Savages series #1) I left them for her, so they took her away, to teach me a lesson, claiming that she makes me soft. But they'll soon realize just how soft I am not. When I unleash hell to their doors to get her back. I'll teach them the lesson; never take away a Savages's fixation./0/81649/coverorgin.jpg?v=1e315b085d0ecc0064cd3cbfd0d14c90&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Father's Rage
My son Leo, valedictorian, MIT-bound. On his graduation day, my heart swelled with pride as I ironed his gown. He was my entire world, the only light left in it. Then, my ex-wife Victoria called, her voice flat: "Problem at the old industrial freezer. Go now." Dread seized me. I ran. The massive door creaked open to darkness and a metallic scent. My phone's light revealed the horror: Leo, grotesque, hundreds of construction spikes pinning him. "Dad?" he whispered. Then he was gone. Trapped with his body, I called Victoria. She scoffed, dismissing his death as a "prank." My own father only wanted money. At the hospital, Victoria' s security blocked Leo' s ambulance while she discussed a new family with Chad. He then tricked me into a "miracle procedure" to save Leo – actually, to dissolve his body and destroy evidence. I burst into the OR: hazmat suits, acrid chemicals, Leo' s desecrated remains. They were dissolving my son. My grief transformed into pure, black rage. Victoria then called this unspeakable horror a "prank that got carried away." The profound betrayal and boundless cruelty were incomprehensible. Something inside me snapped. As Victoria's men dragged me away to a forced psychiatric committal, her mocking words echoed. I looked at her, at Chad, at the vile scene. My voice, flat and emotionless, was a vow: "You will pay. Both of you. You will pay for this." This was no longer just sorrow; it was a chilling promise./0/23298/coverorgin.jpg?v=3cb965e3b0466ec86d8d4c93602a9065&imageMogr2/format/webp)
(THE PSYCHO ANGEL)
I can remove your grief; I can erase your fears; I can ease your pain because I am God’s angel, and I believe that he sent me to a mission and that is to end people's pain; I am Helena, A religious woman, and I can help you end your pain by bringing it back to the Lord. With the help of my boyfriend named Echo, the man that I love and trust most. We accomplished our mission well, but everything came to an end when Brother Ven. A born again Christian. Didn’t believe in my mission. He asked a psychiatrist to help me from my delusional mind because of the dark past that I’ve had. He told the psychiatrist named Dr Castelo; A psychiatrist who has a dark secret, that I have a mental illness. So join me in my journey and discover by yourself if I am God’s angel or a sick psychopath? Who is Echo in my life? And how can my psychiatrist help me if she has a dark secret kept hidden?/0/24707/coverorgin.jpg?v=6cc643377b3ad97fc81acaa7e13cff76&imageMogr2/format/webp)
BLACK ANGEL
Wakeup Angel... Please leave me alone I want to sleep. No babe her mother said do you know why u must wakeup? No mummy she answered... Okay I will tell but first gize what today is.. I don't know the little girl said. Well as your mother, I will help you what that but first you will promise me that you will get up because today is your birth month and today is your birthday (she smiles) Really? The little girl asked with somuch enthusiasm in her and up she gets. But little did she know that that day will be the last time and the start of a new life which she never will like to have experienced... What happened well let's find out.../0/82276/coverorgin.jpg?v=e6e3faee0566a6d13d71608e180e47eb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Kidney He Stole: Ava's Reckoning
Ava Miller, co-founder of AuraSynch and devoted partner to Ethan Reed, believed she had it all. Her decade building their tech empire seemed a testament to enduring love. Then, a latte from Ethan clouded her mind, initiating a nightmare. Trapped, Ava overheard him arranging to harvest her kidney for his ex, Chloe Vance. Frantic whispers revealed Ethan had also forced her to abort their child years ago, all for Chloe. Her world collapsed, realizing the calculated exploitation of her body and love. Ethan' s cold disregard, his abandonment for Chloe' s whims, and Chloe' s taunts highlighted Ava' s utter worthlessness. Even after Ethan intentionally sacrificed her as bait on a bridge, his monstrous cruelty remained. How could the man she loved see her as a disposable resource? The crushing realization ignited an unwavering resolve, extinguishing her foolish affection. Severing all ties, she erased him from her life, resigning and clearing their shared home. With icy determination, Ava made a single call to Ethan' s fiercest rival, launching a shocking new chapter. She emerged not as a victim, but a force ready for public revenge./0/23769/coverorgin.jpg?v=bf25d33ab206409e23545975a3048ed9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Villa
The holiday turned into a dreadful one. When they enter a room they shouldn't be!. Repeat events that have happened before. Will they be safe? Or are they the ones who will pick up death like the others??. "Charlie !!!" "Nadine!! No!! Hold on!!" "Cheline, Where are you??" "Rico? H-help me..." "Reza...Watch out!!!" "Arghh... Michele" "Marchel ?? W where are you? Hiks...Im scared..." "Fathia...I do not will let you die"/0/86501/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106211548&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Heart, His Cruel Game
Three years ago, I became the lost heiress to the Sterling fortune. David Sterling, the family' s handsome son, saved me from a dark clinic, spending millions on my recovery. We married, had a son, and our life felt perfect. At our son Anna's first birthday party, David pulled a scalpel from his pocket and, in front of all our guests, cut open our baby's chest. He then ripped out Anna's tiny, beating heart to save Sarah Miller' s daughter. He kicked me hard in the stomach, growling about how I had "manipulated his parents" and that my son "blamed me for being wicked." I lay in a pool of my own blood and despair, forced to watch him walk away with my son's heart. My whole life with David had been a cruel, elaborate plan for revenge. Days later, I was confined to a hospital bed in David' s mansion, not for care, but for harvesting my blood for Sarah. I was subjected to constant humiliation, forced to view videos of my son's murder, my C-section wound tearing open from the pain. David and Sarah paraded their love, while I lay in agony, ridiculed for my weakness. My heart was gone, ripped out just like my son's, leaving a hollowness so vast it swallowed me whole. How could the man I loved, the father of my child, commit such an unspeakable act of depravity? Why was I, an innocent victim, suffering this unimaginable torture? In my deepest despair, I remembered the small, hidden button on the bracelet David had given me. A desperate signal shot out into the world, a cry for help. I just had to survive for three more days./0/50365/coverorgin.jpg?v=422bf29ed8ef3ad8b08e298d5afb4276&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Demon inside
Her POV I looked up at the high gate of the university and quietly read the engraved letters there. 'R University ..' I sighed and smiled before I entered. No human being maybe in their respective rooms. I went to the Dean’s Office to ask where the building of the section I belonged to was. I halted in front of a door painted with a gold color and knocked twice. A woman with a round eyeglass and hair tied in a pony tail welcomed my sight. "Oh ... it's you.Please come in." She uttered I smiled and stepped in. "Dean ... the beautiful lady is here." She informed the Dean who's busy with the papers I scratched my head because of the word 'beautiful'. I still feel lonely when I am praised. Slowly, she held her head up and flashed a big smile. I stared at her for a moment. Even with age, there is still a trace of beauty in it. "Miss Quiza.How may I help you?" She asked while staring at me intently I shyly smiled. "Ahh ... I just wanted to ask where the building of the section I belong to is." She chuckled. "Oh ..." He turned to Miss Jie, his secretary. "Miss Jie, please lead the way to her building." "Yes, Dean." Was its polite reply Dean looked at me. "Miss Jie will bring you there.Sorry for not giving you a tour yesterday." I shook. "Naku po. Ayos lang po yun. I was busy yesterday too and as much as I want to tour myself, I don't have much time." Sinsero kong sabi It smiled. "Then ... enjoy.Enjoy your first day here, Miss Quiza." I bowed and smiled. "Thank you, Dean." Miss Jie guided me out. I just kept quiet as I walked and he in turn explained every place and building we passed. I only answered with a nod and a smile. I was too mesmerized by the pine trees that are perfectly standing at every side of the hallway. Flowers that are properly arranged at the side. I was too drown that I didn't even notice that we're already in front of my room's door. "Oh siya.Dito ka na.Don't worry.They already knew that there's a transferee but didn't know who.I'm sure they'll be stunned on seeing a beauty like you.Enjoy, Miss Quiza.Have a great day. " Before I can respond, she walked away. I sighed before knocking the door twice. "Yes? Who ---" It stopped when it saw me and like everyone else when it saw me it hit it. I smiled at him. It's so shimmering. "P-Please come in." It eased the door open and all my classmates looked and stared at me as I entered. I tried to chase away the consciousness and look at each of them. No words came out of their mouths. They just stared at me with adoration. "Please introduce yourself, Miss." I nodded and smiled at everyone. "Hi.I'm Nhiana Quiza.I'm new here.I hope we'll get along." "Find your seat, Miss Quiza." Smiling I headed to the back. There are two vacant seats and I choose the one which is near at the window. "Professor, what is your name, anyway?" He forgot to tell me. "Ahhh ... sorry.I'm Gus Salazar.Your Biology Teacher.Call me Sir not Professor.Yan kasi ang nakasanayan dito.Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself as well." Parang nahihiyang sabi pa nito "You Sir ha. Just saw the beautiful forgot to introduce yourself." Hirit one of my classmates "I'll report you to your wifey, Sir. You've been hit by someone else." "Quiet, class." Sir said shyly I'm not a fool not to know what's going on. "Class dismissed!" Sir said stunned and quickly left "Yessss !!!" Everyone shouted in joy and I unbelievably shook my head. I guess that was their way to get dismissed early. "Shoot! That's really nice!" I was surprised when I looked up they were all around me. They just stared at my face as if criticizing. "Hi. I'm Hero. The hero of your life, Miss Ganda." Introduced the man with blonde hair The woman next to him pushed it with maltreatment the former. "Your line, Hero. It's rotten!" He shouted and turned to me "You're so freaking gorgeous. May I know where you bought your skin care products?" I laughed at the question. "I don't do skin care." "What ?! For real ?!" suddenly shouted the man with a shrill voice 'Is gay.' "Yes." I replied "Woahh .." they whispered in amazement They introduced themselves one by one and they took me to the cafe afterwards. When we entered the cafeteria, the people here immediately turned around. The strength of the voices of those with me. We turned to the counter. "I'll order for you, Nhiana Ganda." Kiel said smiling I shook. "I'm fine, Kiel. Don't worry." It no longer roared and was already at the table where the others were already. "Oh my ... Is she even real?" "Plastic surgery." "She's freaking beautiful!" "Nice tol! Strategic later." "She's real! Shoot! She's too beautiful." Those are just a few of the whispers I hear. I simply looked around and they were all looking at me. Geez ... "Nhiana!" Shaine and Shane and the rest of us waved at me. Smiling I headed to where they were. "How can she walk so gracefully?" "Woahh ..." I just ignored them and sat between Shane and Shaine./0/85407/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210113&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Surviving Eleanor: A Daughter's Rebellion
The smell of grain and something sour-a barn in my suburban kitchen-was the first sign of something deeply wrong with my seemingly normal life with my mother, Eleanor. Standing over the blender, humming an unsettling tune, she poured what looked like chicken feed into it, her eyes wild with a grim, fanatical determination. "It's for your own good, Sarah," she explained, utterly calm, "The curse from your past life, when you were a neglected pig, is still holding you back. This will cleanse you." My stomach lurched; this wasn' t the first time she' d spouted Mrs. Gable's charlatan nonsense, but the ritualistic "cleansing" had never been this tangible. "I am not drinking animal feed," I said, my voice shaking with disgust. "This is insane." Her composure shattered. "You will drink it!" she shrieked, lunging at me with the sloshing blender jar, pinning me against the wall as the world went dark. I gasped, sucking in the familiar, acrid smell, my eyes snapping open to find myself on the kitchen floor, my mother still humming, the bag of chicken feed unopened. I scrambled up, touching the back of my head-no blood, no pain, just the impossible, terrifying realization: I had died, and now I was back. "Mom, what are you doing?" the words escaped me, a ghostly echo of a conversation that had already occurred. Her face held the same fanatical expression, as she began, "It's for your own good, Sarah. Mrs. Gable was very clear-" "No," I cut her off, the phantom pain in my skull too real, "Stop." Then came the final blow, a chilling announcement that shattered any remaining hope: "I've already found a man for you. Mark will be here any minute. He's a good, strong man. He knows what to do with a difficult woman like you." This wasn't just a curse; it was a cage. I had to get out./0/86190/coverorgin.jpg?v=88bfa5d8ee1d0f8067006c7a74516402&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Five Years Too Late, Ryan
My daughter Lily hadn't seen her father in five years, so her joyful cry of "Daddy!" echoed through the sterile mansion as she ran to him. But his eyes were not for her. Jessica Hayes, his "one true love," stood beside him, her feigned trip and cry sending him into a panic. He scooped her up, his face contorted with concern, then shot a venomous look at our innocent five-year-old. "Lock her in the master bedroom closet. Three days. No food." My blood ran cold. "Ryan, no! Please, you can't!" "She has asthma, Ryan. She'll suffocate!" He scoffed, accusing me of lies and manipulative ploys. The guards, impervious to my pleas, ripped Lily from my arms. "Mommy! Mommy, I'm sorry!" she shrieked, carried away. That night, her terrified cries faded to desperate whimpers. "Please, Mommy... can't... breathe..." I pounded on the door until my fists were raw, screaming for them to let her out. The whimpers stopped. The closet door opened. Lily lay there, blue, not moving, not breathing. Unconscious from lack of oxygen. The ambulance siren wailed as I sank to the waiting room floor. My phone buzzed. It was Instagram. Jessica Hayes, pouting in a hospital bed with a tiny scratch. Her caption: "Mr. Peterson is so generous! I only scraped my knee and he gave me two luxury apartments as compensation. I guess I'll forgive you now~" Geotagged from a luxury hospital across town. Where our daughter wasn't. He gifted her apartments for a scraped knee, while our child suffocated. A cold numbness spread through me. "Grandma," I whispered, bowing my head to Mrs. Peterson. "Love cannot be forced. Please... let him be with Jessica. I just want to take Lily and leave." My fresh wounds throbbed, tears mixing with blood. I showed her the post, the address of our marital home given away. Mrs. Peterson's face blazed with fury. "That scoundrel! That worthless boy!" "Call that bastard and tell him to get his ass to this hospital immediately!" But it was too late. If Grandma's scolding worked, Lily would never have been locked in that closet./0/86191/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106211337&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Heart, Their Secret
The family trip to the coast was supposed to be a relaxing end to summer. But the moment I stepped back on campus, a cold dread washed over me: my dorm room lock was changed. My roommates-Emily, Ashley, Megan-they were just… gone. Their numbers disconnected, their social media wiped clean. It was like they' d vanished into thin air, leaving only silence and a terrifying void where my life used to be. Then, things got worse. My best friend Jessica' s new roommates started screaming at the sight of me, fleeing in terror. The university counselor looked at me with a mix of pity and fear, everyone whispering about "personal safety concerns" and "extreme reactions." They all thought I was the monster. I had no idea why. I knew I hadn' t done anything, but an unbearable sense of confusion and injustice gnawed at me. How could my friends abandon me without a word? Why was everyone suddenly so afraid of me? A chilling discovery would soon reveal that my friends hadn't abandoned me at all; they were closer than I could ever imagine, trying to tell me something unspeakable./0/94326/coverorgin.jpg?v=dfb6a02b0805226b467d8ffb5dc54af9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Husband Who Poisoned Our Love
After my tenth miscarriage in five years, I believed my body was broken. My husband, Barron, was my perfect, doting savior who had rebuilt my life after destroying my family's company. Then, I overheard him on the phone. He confessed to poisoning my tea every night, methodically murdering our ten children to repay a debt to his mistress. A life for each year she'd spent in prison for him. My entire world wasn't just a lie-it was a gilded cage built by my family's destroyer. He thought he left me to die in a fire. He was wrong. Now, with a new face, I'm back to burn his empire to the ground./0/77118/coverorgin.jpg?v=21d906bdc09a34c6f9b1ffb9887e0058&imageMogr2/format/webp)
House After The Fourth Bridge
"I don't think anyone would try to believe me. The paranormal became too much for my eyes to bear. The blood from the shower? The terrible stench from the old well? Everything went wrong." Renee and her family moved into the house after the fourth bridge. A home of past horrific mysteries and deaths, ghosts and voices of the dead, the horrible stench of the death well and the occult. They invoke the spirits of the murdered, inviting their presence into their daily lives. They involve themselves in the spiritual rites of the hidden occult making their feet dive into their supposed new world. They discover that all that glitters shouldn't be gold, blood should be in that category too. Cam, Renee and Anna join the puzzle quest of the dark world unexpectedly./0/80405/coverorgin.jpg?v=00020fbeaf8ea1c45afe50a437d74b94&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Was the Monster, They Were the Lie
The splintered wood of the floorboards pressed into my cheek. Another girlfriend gone, another brutal beating from my father. Each woman I brought home to Redwood Creek, to seek the “blessing” at our family’s Pioneer’s Home, emerged twisted with rage, screaming that I was filth. My step-brothers found happy marriages after their girls went inside; I was almost thirty and still a pariah. My father, Jedidiah Thorne, the town’s esteemed mayor, finally showed me why. He strapped me into a chair in a hidden room beneath the Pioneer’s Home, then played a horrifying video. On screen, a figure with my very face, my movements, was brutally torturing animals, then attacking my terrified girlfriends. He confirmed it was me, every single time. My world shattered. I was a monster, a broken thing deserving only death. I sought release in the old quarry, a plunge like my mother’s alleged accident. I survived, but the narrative was set: Ethan Thorne, unstable, suicidal. My father reinforced it, holding me captive, ever-monitored. I faked insanity to finally be institutionalized. Numbed by medication, I accepted my cage, a safely contained monster. Until one grey day in the drab yard, I saw her. Sarah. My first love. The girl I was told I’d killed years ago. She was undeniably alive. And her eyes held a fierce, angry truth that ripped through the fog, promising to expose a horror far greater than I could ever imagine./0/83065/coverorgin.jpg?v=966ebc7ad63bdf29b36677600096166b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
They Broke Her, I Broke Them
My twin sister, Olivia, lay terrifyingly still in a hospital bed, her pale face a stark contrast to the sterile white sheets. An IV dripped fluid into her arm, and chillingly, thick bandages covered her wrists, a silent testament to her desperate act. She had tried to end her life, driven to the brink by the relentless, sophisticated cruelty of Brittany and her followers at Northwood High School. Their audacious arrival at the hospital, complete with smirks and chilling taunts, twisted the knife deeper into our family' s raw wound. My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, stood helpless, their attempts to rid us of the tormentors dismissed with scornful indifference. When the police finally arrived, their response was infuriatingly inadequate: a dismissive "warning" for minors, prioritizing Brittany' s influential family over Olivia' s shattered life. Then, the ultimate humiliation struck: a raw, brutal video of Olivia's locker room torment, her clothes torn and her pleas mocked by Brittany's cruel laughter, exploded across social media. My fragile sister, seeing it, whispered that she was "so weak," her spirit visibly drained from her eyes. A mere warning for such psychological torture, for driving my twin to attempt suicide, was a grotesque joke in their broken system. But a familiar darkness, a dormant, predatory instinct I had suppressed for years for Olivia' s sake, began to stir within me. Olivia had always been my anchor, soothing this other side, but now, she was the very reason to unleash it. That night, I made a decision that would redefine everything: I was going to Northwood High. They thought they knew Olivia Peterson – but they had no idea who was truly coming for them. They had broken my other half; I would break them in return, and the Peterson family had unique ways of ensuring justice./0/90418/coverorgin.jpg?v=4a5aedad509e92a0deb04ef234c98381&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband's Lion Ate My Son
My husband was a world-renowned top animal trainer, running a famous exotic zoo. Even the fiercest beasts were as docile as cats in his presence. But on the day he took our son Jeffry to visit the zoo, the lion, which was his favorite, suddenly broke out of its cage and swallowed our boy whole. In the morgue, I held my son's mutilated body and cried until I fainted, while he rushed back to the zoo overnight to soothe the frightened lion. "Bethany, the little lion is usually so well-behaved. This was just an accident. Everyone has their own destiny. I am also very sad, but the past is gone. We must look forward." It wasn't until I saw on the surveillance that he was comforting the new female manager, whispering, "Cathleen, I'm not blaming you for not reporting the broken cage on time. Everyone in the zoo faces risks of injury; Jeffry just had bad luck." In that moment, I felt the blood in my veins freeze. It turned out that the person who caused our son's death was the father he admired the most. I turned off the surveillance and donated his prized little lion to the national zoo for free. Then, I sent my son's photo to my connections in the underground network, "Make them face the consequences."/0/81346/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106195304&imageMogr2/format/webp)
