Birthday Girl Penelope Douglas Novels & Stories

“You live here alone?” “I did live here with my granddaughter and the moment I saw you in his arms in the woods last night, I was reminded of her,” Penelope said. Sylvia watched tears well up in the woman’s eyes. “I'm sorry about your granddaughter.” Penelope sniffled. “She died in the lake two years ago.” She grinned. “She died within.” “I'm sorry,” David mumbled. “This dress was hers right?” “Yeah.” “I think we should go,” David said and abruptly stood up. He noticed how gloomy Penelope was starting to turn.

“Like he gave a damn about her.” Laura turned around in her seat, and her voice was calm. Too calm. “This girl needs to learn her place.” “I wanted to wait till the party was over. I really did. But she crossed the line.” Penelope’s hands balled into fists in her lap. “She’s going to pay tonight.” The car turned into a darker road, the trees brushing past the windows. Poppy's eyes darted around, her hands clenched into her dress. She didn’t know where they were going. She didn’t know what they meant.

She remembered the Saturday mornings filled with the smell of vanilla and the sound of sizzling batter, the way he always managed to catch the pancakes just before they fell. For Mikal, she expressed her gratitude for his patience, his kindness, and his shared love of dinosaurs. She drew a picture of them exploring a prehistoric landscape together, surrounded by towering ferns and roaring dinosaurs. She recalled the countless hours they spent building dinosaur models and watching documentaries, the way he always encouraged her curiosity and fueled her imagination.

she spat under her breath, slamming the wheel with her palm. Her plan was simple , get to Damon’s mansion, question the maids, slip them money if needed. Someone would break, Someone always did. But just as she neared the familiar neighborhood, her eyes caught sight of a slim figure walking alone along the street. Long hair doll with beautiful hairpins youthful frame, the face illuminated briefly by a passing car’s headlights. Penelope, damon’s precious daughter. Anastasia’s lips curled into a slow, sinister smile. A thought as dark as it was tempting slithered into her mind.