Carta Para Mis Hermanas Novels & Stories

“Thank you. Thank you for always being there for me.” “Always,” Callista whispered. "Now, let's plan how you're going to tell my sister. We have to make this special!“

Not even a single solitary time. “Delfina Poletti, this is my mother and the most important person in the Matrone family, Fiamme Matrone.” As they stood next to a table where a woman was glaring at her phone furiously, he snapped his fingers, “and this cantankerous looking creature, Delfina, is my sister Carma Matrone.”

I pried the seal with my thumbnail open and the first line shook me. Little sister. This was a letter from Mara, my eldest sister. They had not called me that since I was born. I read slowly, because some words need the mercy of air between them. I read twice when the lines blurred. My eyes ran over the page: the breaking and the begging, the promise that they had felt every lash of the Goddess’s hand since the night I fled, that the pack had withered without a Beta’s house to anchor it, that men who once bowed had bartered them into debt, that winter chewed bone.

After surviving a kidnapping and being diagnosed with severe PTSD, I became the family's top priority. Every sharp object and glass item in the house was removed. The furniture was wrapped in thick foam padding, until not a single hard edge remained. My parents canceled all business trips. News broadcasts and violent movies were banned from the house. To help me feel safe, they even forced my younger brother, who had just earned a full scholarship to a top university, to stay home and keep me company around the clock. Everything changed on the night of my brother's lavish eighteenth-birthday celebration. When fireworks erupted across the sky without warning, I hallucinated instantly and grab

Liam replied staring at me with some sort of fret in his eyes. I grabbed the letter from Leo as I opened it and read; “Dear brother, It has been ages since we last saw. I hope you miss me your big brother. The Moon Goddess is so nice to bless you with such beautiful mate. I will be looking forward in seeing you again. Not to worry, Mia is doing great over here. Don’t forget to bring flowers while coming. To- My little brother, Corey.” I let out a loud growl and tore the letter into pieces.

I gave my credit card back to my parents and my car too. All this is because of you, I'll prove it to you! Have a nice day Lukey.. do you miss me? I scoffed reading it and put the letter back in. I threw it to my desk and Rose reached it. "I wonder what did she write?" Rose said and opened it. I rolled my eyes and walked to the shelf to get the file that she wants. Being a Cesantio right now makes me miss my sister, I've got no one to fight with or argue with.

“Being in a wheelchair doesn't mean I'm useless—” “Angie—” “No, zia.” Angela shook her head. “Let me finish,” her voice was tight, gaze unwavering. “I'm not useless, weak or in need of some knight in shining armor. La mia fratelli already treat me like I'm incapable of taking care of myself since the accident, I don't need another man fussing over me!” {La mia fratelli: My brothers} Caterina said nothing more, but the sadness in her eyes was impossible to miss. I understood her concern and fear for Angela but this was not the right way to show it.

He told me to know my duration and to count the days in the calendar if I am still having a normal menstruation. As you can observe, my brother served as my parent. He even takes a notes in the calendar, he is over-reacting doing that for me. Maybe because he don’t want me to stain the sofa cover again. I smile a little. His handwriting is neat. And my tear flows in my cheeks when I read his note: Need to add a sanitary pad in grocery list. He is really thoughtful brother. Juan Carlos, it just a one day has passed but I already badly miss you. Your younger sister misses you a lot. I hope you do study well in there. Go for your dream Juan Carlos. Your little sister will wait for you.

The sharp shreds that were hurting my chest, I can feel the pain burning my chest. "Cara, my sister loves you so much and she respects you. What will she think about you? How will she live here alone? I haven't told her anything, she is still in the trauma of our parent's." I heard the low volume of my brother, I know what will happen now! He doesn't have any choice. I can not be so selfish as to halt him here and leave his family.

I think of my mother telling me, growing up, that sincerity opens doors and breaks down barriers. “It’s from my sister Teresa. I left my cell phone at my parents’ house, and she’s always been... weird,” I explain and walk over. “Weird?” he questions without understanding and without stopping looking at me with a frown. “Who writes letters in the twenty-first century? In the middle of the digital age? Only Teresa is capable of taking twenty minutes out of her time to write a letter to someone.” “She’s your sister. You should value the time she spends writing for you.”