Evelyn M M Novels & Stories

“Good morning, ma’am. Welcome to O’Neil Corporation. Do you have an appointment?” “I don’t need one,” Evelyn said sharply. “I’m here to see whoever is in charge. The CEO, President, or whoever thinks they run this place.” The receptionist blinked nervously. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but both the CEO and President are unavailable today. The only senior official currently on-site is the Media Manager, Miss Williams.” Evelyn froze for a second, her eyes narrowing. “Williams?” “Yes, ma’am.” Something stirred in her memory — a cold, unwanted familiarity. Celine Williams. Could it be? No. It was impossible.

She sat up, toes curling against the soft rug, and waited for the curtains to be drawn back. Her Mama entered quietly, tablet in hand, checking her calendar. A pop - up on the screen reminded her of a video call with a gallery director, a few digital sticky notes about menus for the week, and a short list of emails from the staff. Evelyn glanced at Eva and smiled, setting the tablet aside. Her mind flickered briefly to the social media posts she had scrolled through earlier: photos of distant cousins’ children, tiny hands holding oversized cupcakes, captions that tried too hard to capture wonder.

I gave the young woman a quick once over before asking, “Where’s Mae?” “We had to let her go,” the blonde replied while looking around the well-furnished living room. “And you’re…….?” I asked. “Oh, I’m sorry,” the young woman replied, “My name’s Evelyn, but everyone just calls me Eve.” “Well, you seem to have inherited Mae’s penchant for tardiness,” I commented evenly. “I’m sorry about that, ma’am,” Eve replied softly, “but I just found out ten minutes ago that I was to take over Mae’s book. I can assure you that from now on I will be on time for all of your appointments.”

she muttered, taking another sip from her glass. **************** MIMI'S ROOM Mimi paced her room a bit as she thought of Evelyn and her uncle. It has been days, but this has been haunting her like it just happened a few minutes ago. Evelyn didn't deny sleeping with Uncle Adrian. How can Evelyn do this?! Mimi yelled internally as she rubbed her temples. She saw the way they looked at each other. The way Evelyn looked at him. She didn't even want him to go and Mario is ignorant of this.

“You think she’s one of them?” “I think,” Evelyn said slowly, “that she’s like me.” A silence stretched between them. Finally, Mason said, “So what’s next?” Evelyn walked to the closet. Pulled out the folder Reyes had given her. She flipped to the list of names. Half of them had addresses. One in particular was circled in red ink. Dr. Elias Klem. Psychologist. Former city contractor. Specialized in memory suppression therapy. “Ever heard of Hollowmere Psychiatric?” Evelyn asked.

"And you do know Evelyn deserves an apology, right?" He nodded quickly over and over like some nervous, damn lizard. It made my fist itch. "Erm... Boss..." he muttered, eyes darting to the floor. "Evelyn showing up at the clubhouse that night... it wasn’t a coincidence." My brows shot up. I straightened and leaned against the edge of the table, arms folded. "Wasn’t a coincidence?" I echoed, narrowing my eyes. "Then spit it out." "There’s a woman named Mimi. She used to be Evelyn’s assistant. Diane brought her to New York."

She had her silver hair pinned back while dressed in a cardigan. Her reading glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, slightly exposing her eyes that shone like a scalpel. She said nothing for several seconds, and Elara who had initially prepared a meeting, simply stared back at her. “Maeve's eyes,” Evelyn said quietly. “You've got your mother's eyes.” It hit harder than Elara expected. She had seen the resemblance in photographs, but that was very different from hearing someone else say it. The chain came off from the door and Elara stepped in as politely as she could.

I finished. "She was going to hand you back to him," Evelyn said. Gently but without apology. "Whatever she was, that was what she was about to do." I pressed my fingers to my mouth. Breathed. "Who are you?" I asked. "I mean who are you really. Not the maid. Not the woman who dried my tears for twenty years. Who are you actually, Evelyn?" She held my gaze for a long moment. "My name is Evelyn Mireille Osei," she said. "My younger sister was your mother."

The name of the second authorized person had been partially erased, but the remaining letters were enough to make my stomach tighten. E. Voss. Eleanor Voss. The same woman from the photograph. “The woman who contacted Evelyn,” Damien said. “Eleanor.” Daniel nodded. “That means Eleanor wasn’t simply involved in Project Eve. She had direct access to information about Eve.” Evelyn looked at the screen. “So Eve was a person.” “Yes.” “Then why did my father hide her from me?” No one answered immediately. I reached for Evelyn’s hand. “We don’t know yet.”

Professional licenses. Something. Anything. People left footprints. But I did not say anything about it. Mara continued in a terse tone, "She exists." "That's reassuring." "Only slightly." Lucian drew forward. "Explain." Mara glanced at her notes. "Evelyn Byrne spent most of her adult life moving between Ireland, Scotland and Canada. She has worked with literacy programs, community centers, educational charities and youth development projects." That sounded harmless. Suspiciously harmless. Even Mara seemed to agree.