Come What May Novels & Stories

When she was gone, May sighed, putting the book inside Maryam's backpack. May had a short bath. She tied a towel on her head and walked out of the bathroom to see Maryam already in her room, eating meat pie and a chilled coke drink. "That looks good. Oh, won't you give mommy some?" May joked and Maryam giggled. "I'm going out," May announced when she finished dressing up. She was putting on a strapless yellow gown that stopped just after her knees and black colored flats to match. "Where are you going to?" Maryam whined.

Figures in odd clothes danced by the fires. Why did they meet there? “Last woman in America was hanged for witchcraft right on this spot,” some patchouli stain of a man stuttered at them. “Goody Smith.” “Well, goody for her. Hell of a way to become one of history’s footnotes,” Michael sneered. Jon nudged him and whispered for him to be cool. Overnight Michael had become arrogant and condescending. Contact with the beyond and a half done deal with the devil had put unwarranted lead in his pencil.

I murmured, carefully, balancing the tray of food in my hands and heading into the bedroom where May was waiting. "Hey," May greeted me with a smile, but she looked tense. "What's wrong?" I asked cautiously, setting the food down on the bed before sitting next to her. "It is Snuggle. Cupid, to be precise. She asked me if she could use my poem. This app really digs into our lives." "And what is this poem about?" "My mother," May mumbled, looking away from me. I was reminded of my reward. The poem probably had something to do with it. May shying away from the question itself was enough giveaway, and the last thing I wanted was to ruin a perfectly good morning.

Stupid tears. Mathew hated theatrics and had told her, but he was not about to bring that up now, not when her emotions were running high. So he looked away from her swimming eyes as he asked, “What was it you wanted to discuss?” Never would he have imagined what she fired back. Not from the mouth of his sweet Serena, “We need to have more sex!” His head swerved back sharply to her in disbelief. “What?"

Was I really capable of showing the kind of devotion towards racing like Sean had explained to me? The simple answer was: I wouldn’t know if I never gave it a try. But when I arrived at the mansion and stepped through the front door, I was greeted by a sight I hadn’t expected: May was sitting on the living room couch, her hands resting on a neatly wrapped package in her lap…and any prior plans I may have had about just relaxing and contemplation my life-decisions, went out the window. She looked up as I entered, her eyes wide and apologetic.

It was the signal for the master library. "Señor Mateo is back," my mother whispered, her face turning pale. "He just came home very angry. He slammed his things down and demanded a hot pot of black coffee in the library right now. The other maids are locked in the storage room counting the food for tomorrow, and Doña Carmen is busy. You have to take it to him, Valeria. I need to watch the stoves or the bread will burn. Please, just keep your head down. Do not look at his face."

I don't want to arrive there, wearing that old clothes, it's not like someone would appear and do some magic! I was panicking, it’s not like I can go right now in the village and buy a dress. Also, I can’t delay our travel just because I need to buy a dress! What should I do… I was thinking hard when the door opened. There, May appeared while holding something in her hand. “What’s that?” She gave me what she's holding. “Open it.” I did what she told me. What’s inside this bad? I removed the rope that was serving as its lock.

Pain flashed in her eyes as her hand moved stiff to accept. May my hatred be with you!

"Tonight, we have a rare item. A masterpiece of flesh and blood." I stood there, my hands trembling at my sides, the restrictive silk of my gown feeling like a straightjacket. I tried to turn, to run, but Thaddeus’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back toward the center of the stage. "Look at her," he shouted, gesturing to me with a sneer. "Veronica Hudson. She looks like a saint, doesn't she? So pure. So untouched." He leaned into the microphone, his voice dripping with venomous lies.

I’m right outside the double doors and about to push my way through them when May steps in front of me. “There is something wrong with Uriel, I can’t feel his presence anymore.” She grabs hold of my shoulders and her eyes brim with tears. May is as solid as they come. Even when she was faced with the place of her torment, she held her head high and didn’t falter once. This is the first time I’ve seen her show anything other than sheer determination . “Uriel? What... I don’t understand...” what does Uriel have to do with anything? What does he have to do with May?