Agatha Christie Daughter Novels & Stories

I didn't remind Elena that she used to hold my hand while she drank it. I told myself it made sense. Elena was simply trying to make up for lost time with her biological daughter. A mother’s heart naturally gravitated toward her own blood, especially after a decade of agonizing absence. Accepting that logic was the only anchor I had left; it allowed me to stay in this house without feeling like an intruder, even as every servant, guard, and physician quietly stepped around me to ask Lyra for directions. I was a ghost occupying a room that had already been redecorated.

And whether Hector – or Cassandra liked it or not, Caitlin is that woman. “Hector, if you truly want to be in your grandchild’s life, then you have to find a way to forgive them totally and completely.” “I know,” he mumbled as he walked back to the sofa. He still had Agatha on speaker. He sat down. “And your daughter needs to as well. From what you told me, she’ll be a shrieking banshee by the time she’s thirty-five.” “God forbid,” Hector commented – halfway with amusement but he was a tad worried Agatha might be right.

I said to myself. How could I even know when he had clearly stated that he was just helping his friend to keep a close watch on her and her daughter since he was not around? But I guess that was all a lie that he had made. I had never imagined this. Never imagined that his "attention" would include fucking her in an expensive hotel room while our daughter was lying dying here. I cried until there were no more tears left to shed, until my eyes were so swollen and sore that even blinking was painful. The red silk gown was twisted around my body, damp with sweat and tears, a symbol of the foolish hope that had brought me to that hotel tonight.

A procession of somber figures in black filed in. At the forefront was a woman with silver-streaked hair, clutching a photo in a black frame. The girl in the picture beamed, her smile as bright as Evelyn's. "My daughter, Melody Rogers, was Frank's student, too," the woman's voice broke. "He conned her into stealing my credit card and transferring him thirty-four thousand five hundred bucks. Once he had the money, he dumped her. Overwhelmed, she jumped from a building last year. She was just nineteen."

Summer got nervous as she saw Sarah's eyes reddening. She suddenly realized something. "You've found Sienna? Why won't she donate her bone marrow to me? Why?! How dare she? We're sisters! She must save me." She added, "You two as well! I'm your daughter. How could you not save me?" Summer wanted to live, so I could understand her maniacal reaction at that moment. After all, I was like that before I died. Yes, I finally remembered how I died. I remembered it all when I saw the photo of my killer at the police station.

“Who’s life did she save?” My father hesitated, then said the name like it burned to speak it. “A judge’s daughter.” Lucian inhaled sharply. My father continued, voice trembling. “The man who threatened Sophie… is the same man who attacked the judge’s daughter. Sophie stumbled onto it by accident. Her scream made him run. But he saw her face.” My entire world went white. “I don’t… remember…” My words came out broken. “You blocked it out,” my father whispered. “You were nine. Traumatized. Your mind shut it away.”

If Magnus wouldn’t tell me, I was hoping she would. “Aah… So you’ve found out about her?” she sniffed. “He loved her, you know.” “My mother… she’s died when Garth was just a baby.” I wasn’t much older. Gisela gave me a penetrating look. “Do you know how she died?” Only what Father told us. “Not really. But I need to understand how Magnus knew her. He’s so much younger than my father.” “He’s older than he looks, my dear.” Gisela got to her feet. “I’ll brew us some tea.”

Angela said reassuringly. However, it was in vain. Helena remembered all the bad things Janet had done to her, even until the end of her life she never considered herself a daughter-in-law, this was the first time Janet said it proudly after Helena introduced herself to the public as the daughter of a billionaire. This world is indeed small and foreign. Will Helena continue to meet members of the Frazie family who Helena knows have so many connections from various circles, maybe even with the owner of the spa building? If not, what would Janet do there if there were no connections? Usually Janet would not come to a place she didn't know.

Anne’s POV The banging from the door gave rise to a groan from my tired lips. At first I found it hard to get my eyes opened due to the tedious work I had to put myself in the previous day, but when the bang came even louder than the first, I sprang to my feet in rage. Ava, my 5 year old daughter, grumbled in her sleep as she tossed to the other side of the tiny bed in discomfort. With the temper still in me, I marched to the door, but on opening the door, all the rage I thought I had in me melted immediately.

I put my hands in my lap to appear more innocent. "He's George's son?" She asked, impressed, looking toward my room. "The one and only." "Alright," she replied with poorly feigned indifference. "Really? I think he's..." "He's handsome, Minerva. Such a handsome man!" She fidgeted in her seat and stifled a squeal of excitement about Christopher. I chuckled at her reaction and patted her head. We fell silent for a few moments, and then we heard a mobile phone ring. Isabela took her bag and rummaged inside it for her phone. She answered and gave brief responses to the person on the other end of the line.