Descendants Evie Pictures Novels & Stories

Evie uttered, her voice trembling, and her eyes reddened in fear as if she was about to cry. She kept bowing her head. Elder Mauritius motioned for her to stop, "It's fine," he said, his voice strong, cold, and commanding. She nods and slowly moves aside to give way to the Elder. Elder Mauritius was about to leave when he remembered something, "You..." He muttered. Evie's soul almost jumped out of her body, "Yes, Elder." She replied and moved closer to the Elder. "You're friends with Vesper Miles..." He remarks as he remembers her face as one of the images in Alpha Mercimer's collection.

Heath sat at his desk thoughtfully. He rotated his chair to face the wall behind him. Pushing the red button on the remote control in his left hand, he turned on the fifty- two inch, flat screen monitor, which hung on the wall behind him. It quickly went through it's voice guided starting options. He chose the source button on the thin black remote. "Source selection Open HDMI1-MHL," echoed through the large open space. "Source selection close HDMI1-MHL," the electronic voice announced. Suddenly, Faidh's sleeping image appeared on the screen. The blank expression on Heath's face quickly changed to tenderness. This WAS his Eve. She just HAD to be!

She was weird — and beautiful. “Well, I hope you have the courage now,” I said with a smile I usually don’t wear. She looked at me and then down. “I-I am Evie. Evie Davies.” “Well, welcome Evie. Now, why would he appoint you? I’ve never worked with a female assistant before. What’s so special in you?” She started thinking nervously. To be honest, I was also thinking about why Trev would appoint anyone? Did he do it for me? And does she know where he is?

Daniel’s family ignored her, certain that she somehow caused the incident that took him from this world. Evie picked up her bag from the back of the chair at her desk. Scruffles, the black cat she had adopted the day after the memorials, jumped on the back of the couch. She scratched him under his chin and he purred. “Behave.” She murmured as she walked towards the door. Pausing briefly at the peninsula, she gently touched the gray marble urn with their images and information on it. Next to it, the digital picture frame rotated through some of her favorite pictures. Some had all three of them. Some of her with one or the other, or the two of them. Some it was just Daniel or Cade. Some had ot

“Weeks, if she’s staying put. Longer if she’s moving.” I nodded once. Adam stood. “I’ll update you as soon as there’s movement.” When the door closed behind him, the room felt tighter. I opened the folder again. Evie’s face looked back at me from the top photograph. The angle was unflattering. Hospital lighting. No makeup. Her mouth was relaxed, her eyes steady in a way that had nothing to do with posing. I studied the curve of her lips, the slight asymmetry when she smiled. It was natural.

She could be with family. The doors opened, and Kaiden marched in, heading straight toward me and looking me over before grunting in satisfaction that I was fine. The woman behind him was beautiful and easily recognizable as a descendant of Juliana. “Is this her?” I asked, stepping forward and reaching out toward the bundle in Evangeline’s arms. “No,” Evangeline snapped, at the same time that Kaiden said, “Yes.” I glanced between the two as they glared at one another before ignoring them both as the baby started to stir.

Most times, she seemed to be absent-mindedly doing it. Which had given Kyra the time to make herself comfortable by going through photo albums and picture frames on the walls. "Yeah, Evie does," Lily agreed, appearing beside her, the broad smile on her face at the moment captured of her sister and mom. Eve, who looked at most five, was wearing a sports uniform consisting of a yellow short and matching t-shirt, was thrown in the air by a young woman in a flowery pleated gown whose beam on her daughter was brighter than the sun.

Bringing sick babies to depositions. But that was three months ago. Maybe I was ready now. Maybe. --- Saturday morning. Evie's eight-month photos. At home this time. Casual. Marcus took them. Phone camera. Natural light. Evie crawling. Evie sitting. Evie laughing. She was so much more expressive now. Personality emerging. Stubborn. Curious. Determined. "She looks like you," Marcus said, reviewing photos. "She has your nose." "Your attitude." "She's eight months old. She doesn't have attitude."