Louise Carmen Notebook Novels & Stories

She glanced at her brother, then at Liora, and drew a deep breath. “There’s something I want to give you,” she finally said. Xavier turned fully, his expression blank. “For me?” Isabelle nodded. “Yes. It’s a small gift. Maybe not much, but I made it myself.” She pulled out a medium-sized notebook, its cover made of dark brown leather with a simple ribbon decoration. The name “Xavier Wrenford” was delicately engraved in the lower right corner. Liora’s eyes sparkled. “Isabelle, you made this yourself?”

Cassandra woke up without Sebastian by her side anymore. She stretched her body as the sun rays hit her face. Another day had dawned. The birds chirping came in bursts, bringing a small smile to Cassandra's face. When she stood up, she saw a small note sticking on her bedside table. She picked it up and read what's written loudly. Louise, I will not go to school today. The Council had called, I had no choice but to go. I don't know what they want from me, but I'll be back tonight, wait for me. I will miss you. Please, stay out of trouble and behave yourself.

The woman quickly grabbed the notebook she was writing on. "Well, what do we have here. Is this a diary? Or a collection of love letters perhaps?" The woman began to open the notebook and tried to read it. Her friend came in and said, "Aren't you nervous that we might see something in here?" She smiled as she was thinking to embarrass Celestin if they found something in her notebook. "I highly doubt that you can understand what's written in there, so I don't care even a little bit," Celestin spoke seriously and then took out another notebook and wrote.

The cottage was quiet. For the first time in what felt like forever, Elena wasn't running. Not from the estate. Not from Francesco. Not from the necklace. Not even from grief. Rain tapped softly against the windows while a small fire crackled in the hearth. Across from her, Roberto's mother sat calmly in a wooden chair. A book rested on her lap. Ancient. Worn. Its pages filled with symbols Elena couldn't understand. "You are forcing it." Elena frowned.

And then; Carter’s blood ran cold. There, among the leather-bound volumes, were notebooks with labels written in neat handwriting. Carter – London Carter – France Carter – Switzerland Every place that Carter had lived during his seven-year self-exile abroad. With shaking hands, Carter pulled down the London notebook and flipped it open. It was filled with pages and pages of dates, times, and photographs. Carter leaving his apartment building headed to a store, Carter at his favourite coffee shop typing away at his laptop, Carter running to work afraid of being late.