Maggie Glass Novels & Stories

“You said you’d keep away.” Maggie froze, her jaw tightening. I could see her battling herself inside, wanting to fight him on it but knowing she had no ground to stand on. She swallowed hard, then gave a small, reluctant nod. “Fine,” she muttered under her breath. With that, we all moved into the room, and I silently thanked Alice for thinking ahead—Jade was enclosed in a sealed glass tube, the kind you couldn’t get through even if you wanted to. The moment my eyes landed on him, my chest tightened. Even from here, those burn-like patches of deep red and black on his skin were still there, crawling along his arms and neck like some cruel mark.

“Big day, huh?” Sage turned to see her friend and coworker, Maggie, leaning against the café’s doorframe, a cigarette dangling from her lips. Maggie had the hardened smile of someone who’d seen too much of life to be surprised by it anymore. Her greying hair was tied back with a bandana, and her apron bore coffee stains that refused to wash out. “Big day for vultures,” Sage muttered. “Say the word and I’ll toss sugar syrup on their fancy loafers,” Maggie offered, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

In a suburban villa, the sound of shattering glass shattered the morning tranquility, followed by a piercing scream. "Get out! Ron, just get out!" In the room, Maggie sat pale-faced on the bed, her long black hair veiling her resentful eyes, resembling a demon straight from hell. The shattered glass and spilled milk on the floor turned the once tidy room into a mess. Ron, with a grim expression and traces of scratched skin around his mouth, didn't utter a word, simply turned and left.

A bright purple scarf wrapping around her head and neck. “Maggie,” I bit out. She was back in her wheelchair, and despite the insane amount of makeup she had on, I could see the paleness in her skin behind the mask. She wasn’t doing so good. “Stay here.” I ordered Corinne before stepping forward to Maggie’s side. “Why did they ask you to bring me?” “No need for pretense.” She hissed coldly. I blinked surprised. bEcause in all the years I had suffered in our family, Maggie had never been outright rude or cruel to me. Only manipulative.

Maverick's POV “Your eyes….” Maggie’s brown eyes had turned silver, glowing with a glint of flame. She stood still, not saying a word as she didn't even stir when I touched her. “Where were you? What happened?” My heart thumped as I stared at her. She looked like a living ghost. Her face calm, yet unreadable. “Let's go in,” I tried to guide her inside but she stilled. And then she spoke, “I will stay here”

Chapter 39 …MARIA.. “come to my office” I say during a phone call to Maggie, “why, I need to go shopping” she answers, sometimes, I envy her life, Maggie is a socialite who literally does nothing but spend her parents fortune, she doesn’t have to work her ass out like me as she is the youngest daughter of her family, the only sensible thing she does is modeling for huge companies, talk of a Neptune brat. “I will go shopping with you later, you just need to come here now” I say,

Madeline answered, the same answer she’d been giving Katrina for still, the hundredth time. After waiting for a few more minutes with no end result, Katrina was about to release her hands and stand up in frustration, but luckily, Maggie had already started speaking, not in the usual voice she spoke, but in a more robotic manner, her eyes opened, shining bright like diamonds, but Maggie didn’t blink nor turn them, she just stared straight into the empty space in front of her, as she spoke the words out…

Maggie sat by the small table near the window, her hand trembling as she scribbled fast on a piece of paper. Her candle burned low, the wax dripping down slowly onto the wooden surface. Her eyes darted around the room again and again. She did not want anyone to see her. The paper she was writing on carried her only chance to escape.

there she stood. Wrapped up in a silk creamy nightie. Low dipped at the back, dangerously reminding me of the pound of flesh molded back there. I quickly looked away though. Back to her face, the glass in her hands. “Oh, she wanted some milk.” I smiled. Small. The view itself; her heaving a breath after drowning nearly everything. Her chest rising and falling quickly, breathless. Black messy waves falling all over her face. And... glasses. Those glasses from last time when she spoke to mom.

, I said busting out in tears because I didn't understand the present situation I was in. I have a stressful day at work and I come back to see my house empty. "Oh dear, I really don't know what you are talking about", Mama Maggie said. I could see the waves in her forehead as they squeezed, her cheeks sag more than usual in pity. Mama Maggie is an old gray haired lady in her late 60s. Her back is slightly hunched due to old age, and she also has this brown long stick that aids in her walk and to scold her grand children when they come to visit. Her walking pace is usually slow and only the patient once can wait on her. She looks much younger from afar until she is at arms length.