Madara Photo Novels & Stories

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands as I looked down at the photos of Madison. They covered the floor like a twisted carpet of paper and ink. The pictures showed Madison at the park, drinking coffee and laughing with friends. But it wasn’t the candid snapshots that made my heart race—it was the angry red smears across her smiling face.

Madie continued to scan through the papers, finally getting to the photographs so she could look at pictures instead of words. After a photo or two, the light smile on her face disappeared as she registered what was in the photo. Some were black and white, some were colored. Some were places, some were people. Some had Mother Superior in it. Her heartbeat became quick without her knowledge, eyes focusing on flicking the photographs one after the other. She wondered why looking through it made her nervous. Maybe because she was starving, and the tummy monster was getting to her? Or maybe there was this tug at her head that told her she knew this place. Knew this people.

“An homage to one of fashion’s forgotten greats.” Stepping forward, I place a hand on the portrait. “Hi Mom,” I say under my breath. I feel my eyes start to water. Turning, I am blinded by the flash of a camera. “Good!” Madison exclaims. “Get this moment documented. The day Liliana Adare comes face to face with her mother’s legacy.” Making sure she has my attention first she adds. “Do you know when this picture was taken?” I take a step back so I can get a better look.

On the flip side, his beautiful mom was none other than Maeve. Jasper looked up and saw Maeve. She looked cool and beautiful sitting on the motorbike, but somehow, Jasper felt irritated. He missed me. Maeve came over and touched Jasper's head. "What? Are you so unhappy to see me?" Jasper sobbed, "Ms. Leighton, my mom is gone. I'm afraid she'll never show up again." Maeve could not contain the smile on her face. "What are you afraid of? She can leave. I have your back. Haven't you always hoped that I could be your mommy?"

Forrest's eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he looked at the photo Adrian shoved his way. In the photo, Madelyn crouched on the floor with her skirt spread out. The camera captured her beautiful side view, with sunlight streaming in from the window. Her eyelashes looked soft like feathers as she gazed downward. Holding some books in one hand, she picked up another with her other hand. Madelyn's serene vibe in the photo surprised Forrest and his friends. ...

If someone had uploaded a photo of this moment with a caption about healing, self-care, and reconnecting with nature, nobody would have questioned it. Unfortunately, my attention was nowhere near nature. I glanced down at my phone. Locked it. Three seconds later, I unlocked it again. Checked absolutely nothing. Then locked it once more. "You know," Maddie said without even bothering to look up from the marshmallow she was carefully rotating over the fire, "if somebody recorded the last five minutes of your life and submitted it to a public service campaign, it could probably be used as a very convincing advertisement about smartphone addiction." “I was checking the time.”

Aleister said while chuckling. “Other girls? How did you know that? Did you date anyone after Madeline and before me?” “No! I saw it on dramas.” “You’re a drama fanatic, but I’m not shy. Go on and look how cute and pretty I am since birth,” Madison confidently said which made Aleister chuckle. He continued scanning the childhood photos of Madison, while she is busy looking through the items inside the box. Few minutes later, Madison is confused while taking out a white long dress.

“Where is she?” I didn’t answer. Something caught my attention on the wall. Dozens of Photographs of the Crescent Pack families. Old Alphas.Lunas.Children. And then I saw it. A photograph of a young woman standing beside Clara. Maddison’s mother. Maddison stepped beside me. She let out a small gasp. “That’s her.” She reached toward the photograph. Her fingers trembled as they touched the glass. “She looks exactly like I remember.” I looked at the photograph.

Unknown: mommy is mad I took her phone Unknown: please hurry Mara

Marianne pressed the doll into the void where her face should have been, and Arah gasped as she realized what she had squeezed earlier. In an instant, flashes of Stringmaster’s memories began to flicker before Arah, like a fragmented slideshow. One scene stood out—Edmond, still alive but hidden away, confined. Arah reached for more, trying to grasp the rest of the memory. But all she caught was a glimpse of a makeshift stage before she felt a forceful hand shove her back into the present.