Every Little Thing Samantha Young Novels & Stories

Gifts and any digital entertainment easily distracted them from asking more about their father. When her aunt Diana walked Samantha out the door, she warned, "Sam, you have to stop this. They are already turning five years old. What will you do when this backfires on you?" "I know, aunt. Soon. I promise," Samantha said before adding, "Take care of the kids for me." *** Heartbeats later, Samantha rushed to the hotel where she worked as a head chef for its fine dining restaurant. She changed into her uniform and made her way to the establishment. It was there where her staff greeted her with respect, "Good afternoon, Chef Sam!"

he broke into peels of laughter as she tickled him “ Aha ha ha ha, don’t, please don’t Sammy, spare me, I’m only a seven year old little kid, ha ha ha h aahahahah,” “A seven year old kid too big for his pants,” she stopped tickling him and pinched his cheeks gently “Stop doing that Sammy, I’m not a kid,” he shirked her hands away “ya right, just now someone begged to be recognised as a seven year old kid,” They bantered some more before Samaira headed to the kitchen to prepare the meal for them, then, she freshened up and left for the meeting. Standing tall at 5’10 and dressed in an elegant white flared pants with a black polka dot top and a white jacket, she looked every bit classy and styl

“If you’re watching this, then I am dead. And you already know part of the truth. You were never meant to discover it… but I knew you would.” Carl leaned in. “She left this for you.” “Ophelia… You were the first of us. The prototype. And you were supposed to end it all. But somewhere along the way… you became human.” “Don’t let them erase that.” The message cut out. Carl looked at Ophelia, but she was staring straight ahead. She didn’t cry. She didn’t shake. She just said: “Now I know who I am.” And it wasn’t a victim.

Ughh. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Samantha’s POV

Mark lost his job at the warehouse, some bullshit about cutbacks, and I’d just graduated high school with no plan beyond flipping burgers or community college if I could scrape the cash. Samantha—Sam, she insisted I call her—was the only bright spot in the mess. She was twenty-eight, ten years older than me, with this effortless beauty that made her look like she stepped out of a magazine. Long auburn hair that fell in waves down her back, green eyes that crinkled when she smiled, and a body that… well, let’s just say she filled out her yoga pants in ways that kept me up at night. She worked from home as a “content creator,” whatever that meant—vlogs or something, she said vaguely. But she h

Otherwise, the situation would only get worse. --- Somewhere else, Samantha was sitting in Calvin’s apartment bedroom while playing with her phone. Her face looked calm, but her mind was working quickly. She stared at the screen for a few seconds before finally typing a message. Not long after, the call connected. “Yes?” a man’s voice was heard on the other side. Samantha immediately spoke in a low tone. “I have a job.” The man chuckled. “What kind of job?” “There are two children.” Samantha opened the gallery on her phone.

“Let’s get everything you need.” Once inside the store, Samantha became a whirlwind of energy, darting from aisle to aisle, picking out items with glee. Thomas trailed behind, half-heartedly scanning the merchandise, while his mind drifted to Delia. He hadn’t been the perfect husband and had taken her for granted. Yet, the more he watched Samantha move with confidence, the more he found himself drawn to her. She exuded a life he craved: vibrant, passionate, and unapologetic. “Look at these!” Samantha held up a tiny onesie that read “Daddy’s Little Star” and giggled. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

I just hoped Kaizer would learn to love her because, if Grandma would just let me, I think I might have -- Samantha POV Knock-knock Ugh! My brow furrowed in annoyance at these people's games. Knock, then nothing, and now knocking again. Irritated, I stood up and grabbed the baseball bat beside the bed – I have no idea why there's one here – and carried it towards the door. I swung the door open aggressively, raising the baseball bat at whoever was knocking, and that someone immediately stumbled backward. "Wait, wait! Calm down!" He said, Making hands up to block my swing. I glared at him and lowered the bat, so he straightened up and laughed at me.

“After that, her life became a living hell in that mansion.” My breath seizes. I can’t speak. The intensity of her words pressing hard against me, leaving me breathless. She breathes deeply then shakes her head, as if trying to change her energy around her. “What’s your name?” she asks suddenly, catching me off guard. “Uh… Hazel.” I manage, my voice faint. “Hazel.” She repeats it thoughtfully, then smiles faintly. “I’m Samantha.” Her eyes linger on me, as she studies me. “Even with makeup, you look very young. Don’t tell me you’re also eighteen?! Or even younger”

"Karen Joy, you are finally willing to open your eyes. You have slept for such a long time. If you weren't breathing, I would think you had died." Karen Joy blinked and tried hard to clarify her view, but... when she opened her eyes again, Samantha was still in front of her, and Brother Lionel was not there. Karen Joy was so disappointed. "Samantha, why are you here? Where is Brother Lionel?" Samantha was a very timid and shy person. She had never participated in outdoor activities when she was in school. She was always the first to withdraw from any activities that involved survival skills. She was always afraid of a lot of things. Samantha didn't have the courage to participate in any risk