Beware The Stare Of Mary Shaw Novels & Stories

“I see the superficial wounds are healing very well. Now let’s take a look at the one on your wrist.” As the doctor examined Mary, she turned to the window to avoid looking directly at her husband. She thought, “What is he doing here? Why is he here? Now he cares about what happens to me? No, I don’t want him here.”

She glared at Joseph furiously. Joseph said, "How dare you glare at me? Don't forget your place." Mary spat back, "You're the one who shouldn't forget your place." Joseph raised an eyebrow. "And what's my place? Go ahead, tell me." Joseph stared at Mary, waiting for her answer. "You can save your explanations for Ms. Lowell." Mary still didn't dare to confront him head-on. She knew she'd already overstepped, so she immediately backed down and hurried out of the kitchen.

I can’t wait to get out of here. “Aubrey, focus on the activity and stop looking at the time!” Matron Mary Ann exclaims. “Yes, I’m sorry,” I reply pretending to be remorseful. Some of the Bearers look at me with disapproval. I wish I could knit a blanket to hide from their hostile stares.

Vivienne stepped closer, lowering her voice as she continued, "there's chatter, and I don't like it. I just don't want you to get caught in the crossfire. You have two little girls to think about and a baby on the way—" "Are you keeping tabs on me?" Marybeth asked, thoroughly disturbed that her mom seemed to know so much about her life. "I'm not the only one watching you, Sweet Pea," Vivienne replied, patting Marybeth's cheek like she used to when she was little. "Anyway, you and your husband need to wake the fuck up before it's too late. I'm not at liberty to share more. But I thought I should warn you. We are blood, after all."

When he took my hand and led me down the stairs, his skin burned so hard that it made me flinch. "I made dinner for you." A long dining table was draped in a white tablecloth. Candles in silver holders burned steadily with their flames reflecting off polished cutlery. Right in the center of the table, a perfect beef steak was served with a dark, rich brown crust and a tempting, pink-to-red center. While watching a cooking show, I once casually mentioned, "That looks amazing." My stomach growled in protest, but my mind screamed a reminder that this was not a candlelit dinner, but a last meal before execution.

"Mr. Wade, Ms. Wade has a birthmark like this too. We should go check." Dad's face darkened over the photo of the birthmark. Before he could say a word, Sheila cut in. "Mary, stay quiet if you don't know the truth. You see a dead body and immediately claim it's Raena's. How much did she pay you to pull this stunt?" Mary's face turned pale. "I'm just worried about Ms. Wade. She's still young."

It looked like he was catching fun, from what happened in the morning. But as for me, I was down, especially about my sick dad in the hospital. I tried my best just to overlook the uncalled nuisance he was causing in the reception, not knowing that Sandra was monitoring my facial expressions. She tapped me with her shoes and whispered in my ear. Mary, can't you see Endrick? I can see him. I replied. So why are you avoiding him, she added.

Amelia's point of view; Anywhere I turned my head, Gray stared at me. Remember when I said everyone is here? He is too, even Frank and Tony and the other two boys. Guess they are not in the Mafia too. Lucie my overprotective husband has seen Gary staring at me. and the hiss that left his lips, making everyone look at him. "Why are you FUCKING STARING AT MY QUEEN?"He said loudly, making my eyes wide out.

What the hell was George doing at a women's baby shower? "You're talking nonsense. Look at yourself," George barked at Mary, his tone uncharacteristically harsh. Mary's face contorted with rage, her perfectly applied makeup doing nothing to mask her fury. "George, you dare defend her?" She shoved her purse into Lucy Taylor's waiting hands and lunged toward my mother. "Elizabeth Shaw, you shameless old whore! I'll kill you!" My heart hammered against my ribs. With my pregnant belly restricting my movement, I couldn't physically intervene. "Stop her," I commanded Rachel, my voice low but sharp.

However, would I raise my head in their presence again? The gray-frocked helps must have seen the risquépictures scattered like pollen dust on the burgundy red glass tiles of the floor. I could tell by the judgment and distaste I had seen shining in their beady eyes. Even Mary had turned away when I met her gaze, choosing to stare instead at her particularly uninteresting pair of shoes, the short curtain of the auburn hair peeking from her maid cap hiding her face from me. I looked around discreetly, trying to conserve what little dignity I had left, and damn near let out a scream when my gaze clashed with a woman’s blue eyes.