Fracture Me Tahereh Mafi Novels & Stories

There was no need, my life was already ruined "Jeffrey can't be trusted, Emelia" "But I love him and I trust him, that's all that matters right?" "True, but those two things are never enough. You shouldn't trust someone like him this much. It'll only ruin you," My friend's words flashed across my mind and more than anything, I was hoping she was here for me to tell her that it did ruin me. Jeffrey has finally ruined me. I entered my car, before starting the car's engine. The voices in my head were telling me to go back inside and forget about it. It won't hurt to ignore the pictures and believe he's still the same man I fell in love with five years ago. But then...

" I was just ten, I remembered that day, they were supposed to go for a meeting outside this city and ....they never came back alive. I heard their plane was bombed by unknown enemies. Now to crown it all, I had to take over this whole Mafian thing at ten. I couldn't... I just counted... I was too afraid. I know exactly how you feel, trust me it's shitty, and I've gotta assure you that you're a strong girl okay? you're so strong to survive this okay? don't worry about a thing, everything is gonna be OK. Then when I started recovering and when your dad and some other people started helping me, I found this place, a very peaceful quiet place, I use to come here to think. It's a very peaceful p

I faked a smile. Guess I am already ruining my relationship with my colleagues on the first day. “It's fine, let me guess…You are new here.” She said patting my back which felt weird by the way. “Yeah, I am new here” “I see you are going to the 60th floor, that's where I am heading too.” She interrupted my reply. “Yeahh, the 60th floor. What is you-?” “My name is Tiffany, you can call me Tee for short” She interrupted, grinning from ear to ear.

Arthur was my second most trusted man after Denver. "Here." Denver handed me a laptop quickly so that I could see what was inside of it. There was only one file with a few clips in there with the title 'No turning back.' I quickly checked the first video, and my heartbeat suddenly fastened when I saw a young girl who was tied with a wire in her hands in a steel chair. "Let me go! Let me see my mom! —Ahhh!" My blood boiled in anger when I heard the girl's voice. When I first saw her, I was unsure because the camera angle was from the far northwest and the video quality was not good, either. But now I was sure who the girl in the video was. It was—

“But we have an issue that requires your attention.” I stood, straightening my jacket. “We’ll continue this conversation another time,” I said to Hardin, my tone leaving no room for argument. And I left the lounge with Mikhail following suit. "What's the issue?" I asked. "Your wife, Pakhan. She's drowning herself with alcohol." Mikhail said and I felt the anger radiate off my body, I moved to find the little witch.

The three little kids were running after balls, balloons or whatever they wanted to chase, they even chased the maids who they thought were fun to make fun of. Little monsters. Oh almost forgot to introduce Adam and Elina's second son, he is Amrafel Elara Delio. A 4 year old boy with a stocky, full body. "Bang! Don't give the chocolate to Naura." Rafel shouted with his shrill voice. He stopped running because he was unable to follow the fast steps of Ethan and Naura, who were much smaller and agile compared to Rafel himself. "Don't give it to Naura." Correction Elina who overheard the story of her cute second son.

I’m supposed to be wearing a white canvas but didn’t have much money to spare on a single pair of shoes. I grabbed my towel and head to the bathroom. Starting a quick shower and going to brush my teeth and fix my hair. My name is Afraah, I’m fair in complexion, I’m five feet two inches, my lips are thick and pink, I have a pointed nose, brown eyes and I’m quite slim. I live with my stepmother who has three children and my younger brother Khalil who is a fourth-stage cancer patient. My mom died when I was five years old while my dad passed away two years ago. My family isn’t rich which makes it very difficult to provide Khalil with the necessary things he needs.

I gave him my most beautiful biggest smile, ruffling his hair. “Thank you so much mister,” I heard as I kicked the bike to life, driving away. If only he knew the kind of person I was. I got into the house using the spare key I was given. She was seated on the couch, knitting a cap and singing a song offhand. I dropped my bag at the front door, gaining her attention. “Oh, I didn't know my mafia woman has some feminine trait,” I laughed, walking to her and placing a kiss on her lips.

"What happened to me? The last thing I remembered was collecting your card at the firm and the dinner that night. But you were rude to me." "Rude to you?" Ortega stepped aside to the doctor to find out what was wrong. "Doctor Ramiro, what's going on here?" "I think the impact of the fall might have affected her so much that she has probably lost her memory. She could be suffering from confabulation." "Sorry, Doctor, but what are the symptoms?"

Under his sternum something old unclasped, not to spill, to breathe. Mirra, who had trained herself to hear petition in every small sound—the bite of fungus, the hiss of drought, the thin cry of a fox in winter—felt a different skill stir: refusal without cruelty. She drew the earth’s ache up into her palm and declined to house what was not hers to carry. The ache, denied drama, settled into solvable work. She rubbed her thumb along her root-ring and felt the ground sigh in pleasure at being asked for endurance instead of ecstasy.