Harper Murphy Novels & Stories

Perhaps he was right, there was no reason to fear. Taking the microphone, Harper met the crowd’s eyes with a steady gaze. “I am Harper Laurier. I am not a witch spy, nor am I a traitor to our werewolf heritage. I am not what rumors paint me to be. For the past two decades, I’ve been a regular member of this pack..." Harper began to talk about her experiences growing up over the years and her call for peace as one of the victims of war. Thanks to the righteousness of Ruby and some of the citizens, the crowd calmed down and listened attentively.

It took the last strength in her to be able to hold the tears till she leave the crowd. Here she was, the most miserable and vulnerable 22 years old lady any one would ever think of. Her life never had good memories, it's filled with pain and hurt. Harper never had a single memory of her parent or what they look like since they both died while saving a stranger, and unfortunately during the healing process of the stranger, her mother's water broke and she was birthed. The only family she had was the woman who saved her life 22 years ago after the stranger was killed. It hasn't been up to a year that the woman she knew as her grandma died, yet it felt like yesterday to Harper.

"And God forbid I work at my sister's store. Do you know she gives me the expired kimbap and says I'd survive it? Pure evil, I tell you." Her smile swallows her beady eyes as always, causing me to chuckle. She knew she had me. Basically, Harper did social media. Well, aside from working at a joint cosmetics store and boutique, her life centered around deafening I*******m notifications and Twitter reposts. On the contrary, I only had a F******k account that was now banned for calling out a misogynistic comment. "Just one hour. You tour the place, and we go back home. I have to resume work early today. The grim reaper is coming around."

“Sorry, Mom. I’m reserving that for another time.” “Aww, come on!” That made us all laugh. Except for Harper, who was staring at Michael wide-eyed. I couldn’t really decipher the expression on her face, but she was definitely affected. “Alright. Who’s next?” Michael suddenly said, grinning. Harper then raised her hand. Oh, this was turning out real good. We all faced her as she read from her paper. “I once got lost in Paris and cried at a metro station. I once turned down a modeling offer. And I once swore off dating forever.”

Harper broke out in cold sweat upon hearing that. He was horrified and secretly thought, ‘Quinn is leaving? If she leaves, won’t Master and Finley’s plan be in vain?!’ As Homer’s most trusted assistant, Harper knew almost everything about Homer. When Finley had secretly flown to New York, Harper was the one who had gone to JFK to take him back to the Fox family. Harper was well-aware of Homer’s plan today, so he could not allow Quinn to leave just yet. He tried to stall them, and he said, “No signal? That’s impossible! Is there a misunderstanding here?”

"What the fuck is funny? Know what? I'm not doing this." "Oh, I like you. I don't trust in soul mates but you. I like you a lot,” He reiterated, bobbing his head with consent "Bye." "I am Harper. Harper Kennedy. I don't know your name yet, but if you consider screwing the entire world over and not giving a damn, I can help you. We have the same look and I believe you and I will get along nicely. Just a few hours, you look like a guy with nothing left to lose."

I am a man preparing for war, racing to catch an intruder in the act. I reach the door, a thin layer of moisture forming on my forehead. I grab the doorframe, stopping my momentum, and force myself to take a sharp, steadying breath before looking inside. All the furious, righteous anger drains from my body in a single second. Harper is sitting on the plush rug in the dead center of the floor. She is surrounded by a thick cashmere blanket, looking incredibly small and entirely fragile against the backdrop of the massive, meticulously designed room. She looks up at me as I fill the doorway, her beautiful green eyes completely bloodshot, heavy tears streaming rapidly down her pale cheeks.

I pulled her into my arms. She didn’t fight me. Instead, she held onto my shirt and broke down. “She ruined it.” My chest tightened. I knew who she was talking about. It was so obvious. I clenched my fists. “What did she do this time?” I asked, looking over her shoulder at Reagan. Harper wiped her tears, trying to speak. “The Harvard representative... my meeting...” She struggled to breathe. “She put a screenshot picture from the video and somehow added it to my files,” she said all in one breath.