Evelyn Evans Novels & Stories

Evelyn let the subject drop, though the small, knowing smile that settled over her face suggested she considered the conversation far from finished. She waited until Ethan had stepped out to speak with the doctor before turning to the young nurse checking her chart, her voice quiet, almost idle, though the question carried more weight than its casual delivery suggested. "That young woman who helped me yesterday," Evelyn said. "Layla Bennett, I believe her name was. Do you think it might be possible to learn a little more about her?" The nurse looked up, mildly confused by the request, and Evelyn simply smiled, the same patient, deliberate smile she'd worn for decades whenever she'd already d

Technically, Eileen Russel was only six years old, the same age as Evely, when Francis divorced Vivienne. She was supposed to be another innocent person who was affected by her parents’ doings. However, Evie knew clearly that the six-year-old Eileen was nowhere as innocent as she was supposed to be.

“Evelyn.” The little nobody from the diner. The surrogate. The replacement. Vanessa’s stomach churned ed at the thought of her. She had seen photos, she had gotten information from those she paid and Vanessa knew how to dig. Evelyn was pretty in a quiet, unassuming way, the kind of pretty that made men think of home-cooked meals and soft laughter. Not like Vanessa’s fire, her curves, her bombshell presence. Evelyn’s appeal was dangerous in a different way, the illusion of purity. Innocence.

That is a horrible thing she would never want to happen. After getting dressed she grabs her handbag from the bed, and storms out of her room not after picking up her car keys from the bed. Her name is Evelyn Jones, twenty-three years old young lady living off her family's wealth, and catering for herself, regardless of her parent's wealth. For someone who doesn't look like she's existing to her parents who reside in Paris and care only about their business, Evelyn has learned to live by herself even at this very young age. She grew up with her nanny instead, since she has been the one taking care of her all these years.

The Valley. Evelyn stood up and she looks around she looks up and she could see that where she was just too high, she can’t climb to go up, she dosen’t know her way around the valley. She stood in her burnt dress and she thinks back to her wedding, she looks back to the burnt car and the burnt driver and she tries going out of the valley, each time she tries it’s like she is going in circles and she would always return to the main spot until she find a way and she started tracing the path of the valley till she found a way out and she walked a bit until she was able to find a way and she started running , she ran to the airport and the next thing she was dressed in a jeans pant and an off sh

Why can’t he pay them to cure Mom? I learned to read novels to Mom back then until she fell asleep. She loves Thomas Hardy, just like Dad. I distanced myself from everything that would remind me of her suffering. This annoying confinement that smelled of alcohol. They tried to hide the irking scent with artificial fragrance from bleach and soap, but it did nothing to my senses. Even from Hardy’s books, I kept a respectful distance because every word, every hard cover, reminds me of her. “Can you direct me where Evan Carter is?” I breathed out at the receptionist. She has a landline trapped on her shoulders and right cheeks. Fingers keep punching on the keyboard.

Evan was immediately ruled out since he had no interest in computers whatsoever. But Kyle… "Bev, he knows Elaine." Regardless of whether Kyle had malicious intentions, Evan felt he had to be cautious. "Don't let him get close to you." Beverly's eyes widened in surprise. A barely perceptible shadow crossed Kyle's eyes as he turned to look at Evan. "Elaine was the eldest daughter of the Henderson family and a prodigy who took the world by storm over 30 years ago. Who didn't see her as a role model? So, is it really so strange that I know of her?"

She was dressed in pearls and resentment, lips already curling before she even approached. Eva didn’t notice her. She was pointing at a cookie display in the window. Camille caught my eye, saw the tension in my jaw. “Keep walking,” I muttered. But it was too late. “Well, isn’t this rich,” Evelyn said, stepping into our path like a queen who demanded the world bow before her. I stiffened. “Evelyn.” She looked me up and down with slow, calculated disdain. “Jumped into Xavier’s arms already, I see. Couldn’t even keep your legs closed long enough to let the ink dry on the custody papers?”

“And this must be the journalist.” It wasn’t a question. Eva stepped forward, calm but alert, and extended her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Eleanor.” Lady Eleanor did not take the hand. Her lips curved into something that was almost a smile — but not quite. “So bold,” she murmured. “And American, I presume?” “Nigerian-American,” Eva corrected gently. “Ah,” Lady Eleanor said, stirring her tea. “How… modern.” Lucian’s jaw tightened. “Grandmother, Eva’s work has been instrumental to—”

Evelyn’s POV I woke up earlier than usual today. The sky outside was still grey, and the house was silent. But my heart wouldn’t let me rest. every year. Not because anyone reminded me, but because how could I forget the day I became a mother? Today was special — Liam’s birthday. I had marked the day in my mind the same way I did I didn’t need an alarm clock. My love for him had always been louder than anything else. I stepped out of my room quietly, still in my robe. The floor felt cold, but I didn’t care. All I could