Books For Sisters Novels & Stories

Melinda sighed taking a seat close to Beatrice. Beatrice picked another book from the heaps of books she had cleaned and dropped it on her sister's side of the table. "Read some letters and then decide whether or not to continue with the book. You'll find it interesting." Beatrice said. Melinda nodded as she flipped open the book and began to read and just as her sister had said.. the book was interesting. It was about witches and spells. "Hey." She tapped Beatrice. "Hmm?" "What is this?" Melinda asked.

Swollen and gray as she was, her eyes pecked out by birds, she was the same woman who had tried to give away her dead baby to her and Andrei. As the blossoming trees, and the blood on the grass, and Alex’ face were receding, floating away from her, she called upon Andrei, knowing he was waiting for her somewhere beyond words. Those words that ricocheted between the two sides of the mirror, giving birth to monsters and miracles. The words that bred shadows of hatred and fear but also of love. So, every man has a sister shadow that goes with him, and lives in the reflection of his life, and dies in the reflection of his death . . .

Sarah pov After Daniel left, I decided to head back into my room. "You need to talk some sense into that sister of yours, she acts like she has never shown interest in anyone and now I bring her something that would massively profit her and all she does is turn it off, just classic of her." I just ignored him because there was no point making a conversation with someone whose mind was fixed to their madness. "It will affect us all I promise you, you two are so reliant on the family, you have no experience what it's like to fend for yourselves at your grown ass age and…" I tuned him out when I got into my room and shut the door behind me.

He set the paper bag on the table and said in a strained voice, "Heidi, this is that out-of-print art book you once saw at the foreign language bookstore. I got someone to track it down." I gave it a glance. Many years ago, I had stood in front of the bookstore window and stared at it for a long time. Clifton had said it was too expensive, then turned around and bought Jenna a limited-edition handbag at the same price. Now, he held the art book out before me, like some long-overdue attempt to make up for everything. "I pieced the scrapbook back together too, and I also cleaned all the photos. Heidi, I truly know I've messed up. Please come back with me," Clifton said.

If he refused to marry my sister, their child would be illegitimate, and just thinking about that made my chest tighten, and I didn’t like it at all. “This is frustrating. Why does everything have to be so complicated?” I muttered, rubbing my face with both hands. Just then, I could feel the dizziness creeping in, threatening to pull me under again, so I pushed myself off the bed. I needed to do something, anything to distract myself. As if on cue, I thought of the library. Right, maybe reading a book would help. So, I made my way to the third floor, slipping quietly into the massive library. Even though I’d been here before, I still felt a sense of awe every time I saw it. The shelves stret

My bones ached, stiff from the long hours and the strain of watching events move faster than they should have. The books from the Sisterhood archives waited where I had left them, spread across the oak table. Their pages were worn thin. The ink had faded, but the meaning had not. I reached for the first volume. Its leather binding had once shone silver-white. Time had dulled it to gray. The title was written in an older tongue, one few could still read. In simpler words, it was called The First Awakening. I opened it with care. My fingers moved along familiar lines. I had memorized these words long ago, but memory alone could not guide us now.

"Cynthia was our real sister! You're the fake!" The entitled look of arrogance on Sarah's face instantly froze. Joseph trembled as he picked up the reports from the floor, reading them over and over again. "No... That's impossible..." he muttered, shaking all over. "The sister we lost... The real sister we searched for over ten years..." Thomas' voice was terribly hoarse. "It was never Sarah." He pointed in the direction where my spirit floated. For a moment, I thought he could see me. "It was Cynthia."

“Who locked you up, Isabel? And why? Who were those girls?” “I - I don't know… I don't know how many there are but they were jealous because you spoke to me that time in the corridor. You do know how girls are obsessed with you, Derek. They'll keep hating me if they see me get close to you. They warned me never to speak to you again or even look you in the eye. How annoying! If only they know you're my mate, Derek. I wonder how they feel when they learn that we're going to be step-siblings. Everything is confusing and devastating…I just want to have peace,”

The library was completely still. I looked at her. Nineteen years old. Thirteen years of institutional living. Six weeks in this house becoming the person she had always been building toward being. My sister. “I know,” I said. “I’m glad too.” She nodded. We sat in the library. The June evening continued its warm unhurried work outside. The garden was full. The house was honest. And two sisters sat in a library that had become theirs and said the things that needed saying in the specific quiet of a room that had learned to hold them.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

sister Cecilia hissed. It always amazes me how the sisters always know about everything; the good and the bad. God's heart content, the proper way to behave and live a full life. The solution to all the plague, famine, and war. The fix of capitalism-purgatory. And what you feel, even before you don’t. They always know.