How Does Scarred: A Memoir Reclaim A Stolen Childhood?

This an autobiography of a man's childhood day, the horror and the dread that he went through, it also comprises of other happenings that made up his childhood day: both sad and happy moments.

On the day I rejected Isabelle Hale, Wall Street's newest golden girl, everyone thought I had lost my mind. She had everything: a Wharton degree, a national finance championship, a perfect family name, and a résumé polished enough to make doors open before she even knocked. But I knew what was hiding behind that name. Fifty years ago, her grandfather stole my grandmother's acceptance letter, her New York scholarship, and the future she had earned with her own hands. He used them to escape an Appalachian coal town with another woman, then built himself into a celebrated Ivy League professor who lectured rich students about ethics. My real grandmother, Grace Walker, was left behind in coal dust and shame. My mother grew up carrying the weight of that stolen life. They lifted me out anyway. I made it all the way to Manhattan, to a glass conference room at Northbridge Capital, where Isabelle sat across from me in a black suit tailored like victory. She thought her family name would protect her. She thought I would bow. Instead, I closed her file and said, "You didn't pass." By the next morning, they had fired me, dragged my name through the mud, and turned a press conference into my public trial. They forgot one thing. I didn't climb to the top of Wall Street to beg for a seat at their table. I came to take back every name, every chance, and every voice they stole from women like us.

Have you ever tried pleasing someone your whole life? You do whatever they want you to do, you ignore yourself and your needs just to please them? You put them first as your priority in hope to earn thier trust, But then they don't acknowledge or appreciate your efforts, instead they compare you to your peers, Lecture you in public, complian about every mistake you make, give advice but never encourage. Always want you to be perfect, makes you feel useless and worthless with thier hurtful words, and sometimes even wish for your death. Well if you've ever felt this way, you would be the same as Whitney Hayes. In the midst of a secret crush on her childhood friend and an overbearing mother, Let's find out if Whitney would get true happiness in Hidden Scars Book cover credits goes to the real owner/s

Natasha has been through more grief than a person experiences, in their entire life. She carries baggage that no kid should entail. She lives a pain filled life but hides it all beneath a fake smile. Behind that smile, she is truly hurting. When you look into her closely, then you can see the Pain within. She has Hidden Scars that she prefers to stay hidden in her closed heart and nobody had ever been let in not even once. But of course, she must be loved and love comes when two of them can depend on each other, cherish each other and have no secrets. Her Hidden Scars are soon to be explored by mysterious and popular bad boy, Reece Worth. . . . Reece Worth is the school's scandalous bad boy who acts on impulse and blinded rage who is known for breaking every single rule. He only has his best friend and his cousin by his side. . . . Driven by a whirlwind of secrets, Natasha and Reece are thrown together despite their differences. . Can Natasha open her heart to be loved despite the pains buried within her? Will that be possible when her abusive stepbrother lurks around.

The Color of Healing Some scars are invisible, and some smiles are carefully practiced. Seventeen-year-old Elif has spent years surviving a life that no one truly sees. At school, she is the quiet girl who keeps to herself, avoids attention, and hides behind perfect grades. At home, she walks on broken glass, trapped in a house where fear has become part of her daily routine. Believing that trusting people only leads to heartbreak, Elif convinces herself that loneliness is the safest place to live. Everything begins to change when she is paired with Adrian—a confident, charming senior whose carefree smile hides wounds of his own. What starts as a simple school project slowly turns into an unexpected friendship that neither of them saw coming. Adrian notices the pain Elif tries so desperately to hide, while Elif discovers that even the brightest smiles can conceal the deepest scars. As the walls around her heart begin to crumble, buried secrets, painful memories, and dangerous truths threaten to pull them apart. Healing is never easy, and love alone cannot erase the past. Together, they must face their fears, learn to trust again, and decide whether two broken souls can truly help each other find the light. The Color of Healing is a heartfelt slow-burn romance about hope, resilience, friendship, and finding the courage to believe in tomorrow. Filled with emotional moments, unforgettable characters, and the reminder that even the darkest nights eventually give way to dawn, this story proves that healing is not about forgetting the pain—it is about discovering the strength to keep moving forward. Sometimes, the person who changes your life forever is the one you never expected to meet.

Rumor had spread through the Vittori family that the daughter they had lost years ago had finally been found. The moment I heard, I left the family branch and rushed back to the main estate. My car had barely stopped when a young woman hurried over and grabbed my hand. “So you’re the Vittori family’s adopted daughter,” she said with a smile that looked painfully sincere. “Your dress is so beautiful. It must cost tens of thousands of dollars. You can tell you’ve never really had to worry about anything before. Unlike me. I grew up in places where even finding my next meal was a problem.” For a second, I didn’t understand what she meant. Then her eyes lowered to the only necklace around her neck. “This is the only thing I have from Mother,” she whispered. “Please don’t hate me for wearing it.” The next second, she suddenly grabbed my hand, dragged it up toward her throat, and yanked hard. The necklace snapped. Pearls scattered across the marble floor. “Why would you do that?” she cried, staring at me in shock. “If you hate seeing Mother’s gift on me, I’ll take it off right now. I won’t stay and make things difficult for you. Just please don’t tell Father and Mother. I don’t want them caught in the middle, and I don’t want this family fighting because of me.” She curled into herself on the marble floor, shaking as she cried, while the guests around us immediately turned to stare. I stood there completely stunned. I had imagined a thousand ways I might meet my daughter again. I never imagined she would look me in the eye, mistake me for someone else, and frame me before I had even spoken. Because I was not Valentina. I was her mother.