Home Alone 2 Mother Novels & Stories

before abandoning her entirely. He never set foot in her room again. When my mom passed away, she was still clutching a family photo of the three of us and a little stuffed toy. It was meant for the family of four we were supposed to be. She probably never imagined that the room they had once decorated together would end up being hers alone. I remember that stormy night. I held her cold, lifeless body and cried for what felt like forever. I glared at Megan with icy hatred. If she hadn’t been reborn with memories of the past, I might have let her go. But that wasn’t the case.

Even I, who had witnessed his coldness before, was shocked by his callousness. Ethan's mother suddenly broke free from those comforting her. She lurched forward, her face ravaged by grief, and grabbed my father's sleeve with such force that the fabric tore. Her scream was primal, a sound of pure maternal anguish: "Give me back my son!" Tears and mascara streamed down her face. "You monster, why did you have to show up? Why couldn't you just stay away?"

I cover the phone as I suck in a breath. “Yeah,” I manage. “I’d love to see them too. Missing Nathan and Freya’s handfasting sucked—but thanks for livestreaming it for me.” “We missed you too, Ryder. But with the way things are…” He trails off. He doesn’t need to finish that sentence. “How’s Mama? And you? You two keeping busy now that you’re not Luna and Lune anymore?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. “Mama’s volunteering at the preschool. That she-wolf wants some grandpups bad.” Dad laughs. “And I’m busy at the garage. Wyatt’s thinking of selling it.”

Rose ended the call immediately. “Tyler, we need to go.” “Go where, Mom?” “Please, no questions now.” “But I’m worried.” “It’s nothing to worry about, T.” “Mom, I heard you two arguing over the phone.” “I said no questions. Pack your bags now.” “But we can’t just leave our only home.” “No, it’s not.” Rose’s voice broke. “Your father took your real home from you, and now Sonia is doing the same.”

”Make yourself comfortable, " He said casually, before going deeper into the house. I swallowed hard, still ingesting the fitness of the place when suddenly a sharp, loud voice pierce through the air. “I didn't think you would be coming home tonight. I thought you would be with those chicken-legged women, letting them drain away every last drop of your energy." A woman emerged from the corner part of the house. She looked youthful at first glance, but the streaks of gray in her hair was the evidence that revealed her age. Is that his mother? Curiosity lingered in my mind as I stared at the woman. “Do you think I would leave you alone in the big house for two days straight." He replied to the

Godwin said, as I shut his car door. "Mmm," I didn't promise him anything. I looked away from his car and walked back home. The warm sunlight bathed me as I walked ahead to my mother's new home. I caught sight of her standing at the balcony on the second floor, a warm smile on her face as she watched me walking towards the mansion. When I stepped into the ground foyer, the hall was empty, except for a few maids sitting around and waiting to be called. They were done with their work, and the young maids busied themselves playing chess.

" After she left, I leaned back in my chair. I wasn't ready to face Reina. Not until I had answers. That evening, I drove home earlier than usual. The mansion was quiet. Too quiet. As I stepped inside, I heard laughter coming from the living room. My mother was sitting with Reina. The moment Reina saw me, her smile disappeared. "You're home." "I can see that." My mother glanced between us. "I'll leave you two to talk." As soon as she walked away, silence settled over the room.

In an abandoned warehouse, my mother was tied up in the middle of the open floor, her body covered in bloody slash marks. She looked up at the woman before her, her face twisted in pain. "Adeline... I'm your mother-in-law. How could you do this to me?" Adeline Malone paused mid-motion while touching up her makeup. A cold smirk curved her red lips, her beautiful face dripping with contempt. "Then tell your selfish son to crawl out of hiding. Do that, and I'll let the rest of you go."

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t

My mother, Sophie Nash, was also my homeroom teacher, and she loved nothing more than using me to assert her authority. She was convinced that the worse off I was, the more afraid my classmates would be, and the higher her authority would be. Once, when I passed an eraser to a classmate during class, she slapped me so hard across the face in front of the whole class that my face swelled up. Another time, after I secretly ate a crumb of a classmate’s snack during recess, my mom dragged me up to the front of the classroom and pricked my lip with a needle until blood gushed out. Later, when a classmate was caught by the vice principal for having a romantic relationship while underaged, my m