Anya Forger Cry Novels & Stories

How dare these criminals look at me with pity. I sat up and went to get some water. I sat in the vanity chair and looked into the mirror. I almost didn't recognize the woman looking back at me. At 25 I looked more like I was 40. All that surviving had sure aged me. I hadn't seen anyone from my home town in so long. I imagined they wouldn't recognize me. I don't recognize myself. I went to college here in upstate New York and met Ryan. I chose to leave the little town of Ohio in the past. After my father passed, I had no reason to return. I used to keep in touch with my friends down there, but Ryan had a problem with my social media accounts. He also found fault in all my "small-minded friend

Dimitri moved with her, his frame steady at her side. And between them—Zoe, dressed simply in soft blue, her small hand tucked into her mother’s. The sight struck the crowd like a silent chord. Not scandal. Not shame. A family. Lena’s voice echoed softly from the wings: “You’re live.” Anya drew breath. Let it settle deep. And then, with her voice clear and even, she began: “My name is Anya Petrova.” No apology. No preamble. Just truth. “I am the daughter of Eva Petrova. I was born from a marriage my mother never wished for, one that bound her to a legacy of blood she sought to escape.”

The chat window on my phone was still open to the message where the man told me to apologize. He felt so confident, likely because he believed I had nowhere else to go but by his side. But just a while ago, I received a notification from the bank. I learned that my parents had secretly left me one-third of their family fortune in Sicily when I was eighteen, as my dowry. And that money was enough for me to rise again. The moment the plane took off, I deleted all my accounts. I took one last look at the city that I had loved and hated.

She is totally broken. “Forgive me, father; I have disappointed you and mother once more; I have embarrassed my family in front of others; I have no other choice now; I must accept defeat; I am weak; I can no longer battle the world by saying this.” She falls to her knees and begins to cry, after which it begins to rain heavily. She was crying nonstop until she noticed that the raindrops were not falling on her. She raised her head to see someone standing over her with an umbrella. It was Nicholas.

Pain and anger clouded my eyes and soon, tears wanted to follow but I blinked rapidly till the tears went back to where they had come from. I was just trying to regain myself when I heard Alyra clapping slowly. “You see, sister? You left the past behind, but it never left you. You should know by now that our actions always has a way of coming back to us and so next time, you consider that before you go out there and try to act like you dont have skeletons in your closet." I had no time to banter words with Alyra. Even when we were small, she had always been a parrot, speaking even when she was not supposed to and blabbing her mouth to anyone who cared to listen about the most stupid and usel