Finding Dorothy Summary Novels & Stories

I sighed as I jumped out of the bed and moved to his side. "Her!" I pointed towards Doris. Mawson had not really recognized her presence since he entered as he was too overwhelmed to speak. "She's a traitor!" I had intentionally not called her name to the mention of the just arrived werewolves. It might scare them off. "She has held us down here and caused all the mess you are seeing here. Hold her down and quickly take control before she causes more harm." I had thought I was talking to someone. Mawson paid me no attention as his gaze was fixed at Doris. He looked captivated and star struck like he had seen a rare beauty among the wolf packs.

Elliot replied, "I understand." Dorothy sighed, "Sophia has had a rough time, experiencing things she shouldn't have at her age. She was only six when her parents got divorced. They came back to us, but her mom found another partner despite our objections. At first, things were fine, but then her stepfather started drinking and gambling. When he was drunk, he demanded money and resorted to violence if he wasn't given any.”

Dorothy closed her eyes lightly, her face filled with regret. She regretted believing Janice and going against Larissa and Ambrose. If she had just kept to herself, she would still be the prestigious First Lady. She would have never been reduced to this. Luckily, the heavens had helped her. Just now she had almost been killed by the clones, but the subordinates of Ambrose had arrived right on time, and she had escaped harm. Now that things had come to this, Dorothy had come to terms with everything. Wayne's head turned stiffly toward Janice. His emotions went from shock to disappointment, then to hate and disgust.

"Back then, Mia gave up on her studies and career to marry you. How could you let her down like this? How am I going to answer Adelaide when I meet her after I die?" Dorothy started experiencing shortness of breath and had to pat herself on the chest. She had no idea that all this was happening. Had it not been for that article released online… Dorothy decided she had to stand up for Amelia today. Her expression made Christopher furrow his brows. "Grandma," he said as he approached her and patted her gently on her back. "Don't get so angry." Dorothy's face was still cold. She refused to relent on this.

She could finally get that meal she desperately needed. Dorothy was good at hunting. She used to go out and hunt whenever her aunt starved her, so this shouldn't be a problem. It shouldn’t be, but as Dorothy steadied herself, her stance low and guarded, everything seemed perfect. That is, until, just as she was about to leap, something—no, someone—a wolf leaped onto her, pinning her down.. A gasp of surprise escaped her as the force of the impact knocked the air from her lungs. Her sharp eyes darted around, but all she could see was the hulking form of another wolf, its weight pressing her down, its growl vibrating through the earth.

, Dorothy explains, while telling me about her move, the shopping and decorating. Dorothy worked in the pack Hospital before being transferred to the institute. She was the head Nurse when I was brought to the Mountain View pack. I was, in fact, almost nine years old when I arrived, but I was small for my age and told them I was six years old when they found me; for some reason, I had rehearsed, ‘My name is Eve. I’m six years old over and over again. Why I can’t say. I remember nothing. It’s like my memory was wiped. I remember being so scared and covered in dirt and mud, after the men found me, and then she knelt and asked me if she could be my Nurse and if she could make sure I was healthy

"What did you just say?" "I’m coming home so the will can be announced. Isn’t that what you want? Expect to see me with my husband this evening, and don’t call this phone again," Dorothy said, cutting the call before Clarissa could say anything more. Then she did what she should have done long ago: she blocked Clarissa’s and Agnes’s numbers, along with anything related to the Florence household. After tonight, she wouldn’t hear from that family again. Later that evening, Stefan arrived a little earlier than usual. He came into the room where Dorothy was getting dressed. She wore a black, skimpy bodycon dress with a tight slit, silver heels, and was fixing her earrings.

This is something you make space for. I send another maid to fetch the sketchbook and leave it in the center of the rug. I don’t even know if it’s the right call. I’m guessing. Everything with Dorothy lately feels like guessing. I think back to that night she cried after coming home from the clinic. She didn’t say much. Just walked past me. Sat in silence. Her eyes were puffy, and I wanted to ask what happened, but I didn’t. I froze like a goddamn coward.

"If it's a trash, I should've thrown it in a trash can!" "Oh, son. What value does that crumpled paper have? We can just buy you a new and expensive paper." Mrs. Bertrand said. "No, Mom! You don't understand it! It's very important! I am not talking about the paper at all! It's the content there!" "Stop it." Mr. Bertrand intervened as he massaged his temple. "I still have important things to do. Since Dorothy didn't mean tearing the crumpled paper, just forgive her son. She didn't know it was still even useful. Now, excuse me."

A massive lump formed in my throat as I waited to see what they would decide next—what kind of punishment she had in store for me. As if on cue, Mother regained her composure, adopting a sudden, judgmental look so familiar I already knew what was coming. She cleared her throat. “Stand up, Dorothy.” I swallowed hard and nodded. I didn't want to delay or sit there a moment longer; things could get ugly quickly if I resisted. Sliding the journal across the desk, I placed it far from where her wandering eyes might catch it.