Martha Reader Novels & Stories

Epilogue “I believe in Karma. If the good is sown, the good is collected. When positive things are made, that returns well.” -Yannick Noah *** ~Anna Four years later… Pure white snow blanketed the ground and surrounded trees. I sipped the hot chocolate welcoming the warmth as I sat on the cold porch on a Sunday evening. Life has been smooth and I was happy after a long time. It’s Christmas, Saxon and Gabriel are traveling with their families to Portland this time.

The woman seemed satisfied with the response and finally introduced herself, "I'm Martha, by the way. Lovely to meet you and your husband, even though I haven't had the pleasure." River managed a polite smile, feeling somewhat relieved that she had taken the woman’s mind off her, "Likewise, Martha. It's nice to meet you too." River subtly returned to her book, hoping to enjoy some much-needed quiet time. She was already not happy with Marwick’s absence. And now this lady was making her realize that Marwick should be with her. Martha, however, didn’t seem to take the hint. “So, tell me, love. Is your husband tall?” she glanced behind River. River heartbeat sped up.

"Thank you for the bread." "Wait," Martha said. She reached into her apron and pulled out a small, heavy key. "This is for the side door of the archives. I found it years ago. I was supposed to turn it in, but I never did. It was my little secret for when I wanted to read the old cookbooks." I took the key. It was cold and solid. "I’ll never be able to pay you back for this." "Just stay alive, child," Martha said, her voice breaking. "And tell that General of yours that if he hurts one stone of this place, I’ll find him myself."

She replied, not making an attempt to look me in the eye. "Listen up Martha. I have principles and the king is aware of this. Whatever is mine is not to be touched by anyone else and that includes my man. So I can consider this as a first time incident and I would not react. So kindly leave." Every single word pronounced out of my lips had so much tone of threat and it made Martha shiver down to the spine. I watched on as she scrambled out of my sight like a headless chicken, seeking for its head. Stepping into the room, Dante was not asleep, he was reading through the pages of a book, I am yet to know its title. I hesitated for a moment and cleared up my throat to get his attention.

Queen Shelagh gently walk inside the room with dim lights. Fiona was behind her but she stopped when they reach the big calico cotten Queen Shelagh breaths out before drawing the cotten open to reveal a figure sitting in the dim room while the figure face the other angle of the room "Martha" she said and bow her head in respect. Martha did not even turn to look at her, she only point at the seat beside her for Shelagh to sit Shelagh glance at the seat and gently move to sit on it. Martha is the only person Shelagh respects and have fear for, apart from her no one else

The third and final one was going to be with the CEO, Martha Stan. Within a few minutes, he was ushered to Martha's office. The woman was nothing less than sixty but looked forty. Her office had many books with old newspapers, well arranged in glass cabinets. There were also catalogues of house designs and types. "Good day, Griffin," Martha said before Griffin opened his mouth. She carried an unusual aura that was best suited for a man. "Sit," she instructed while flipping through the pages of a newspaper in front of her. Her voice was gentle but Griffin felt uneasy. Something told him that this woman wasn't one to mess with.

A promise made by other fathers before we were born felt like a curse that he was doomed to live. Martha is a heavyset girl with narrow hazel eyes and long mousy brown hair. She has her father’s broad nose and thin lips that are in a permanent scowl. Unfortunately, she is as ugly on the inside as she is on the outside. Martha has her father’s cruel streak. The humans in the village are often the targets of her abuse. Whiny and self-entitled, there is nothing pleasant about Martha. “Well, I do not forgive you Fenis, where have you been all day?” “I looked everywhere for you.”

My maternity book still rested on the table from yesterday, so I picked it up again and settled quietly onto the sofa. For a while, everything felt peaceful. Just me, the soft morning light, and the quiet sound of pages turning beneath my fingers. Until another voice suddenly interrupted the calm. “You seem comfortable.” My fingers paused instantly. I looked up and saw Martha standing near the entrance of the sitting room. Her posture remained perfectly straight as usual, though her expression carried the same coldness she always directed at me. I closed the book slowly on my lap. “Martha,” I said, acknowledging her presence. “Is there anything you need?”

Satisfied, I finish my shopping and head back home. Martha is all too excited to help me store them away. She even offers preservation tips and meal preps so food can last longer. I'm not much of a talker but the more she speaks, the more I want to interact with her. As we work, we talk. I make her tell me everything she knows about Devon and the more she reveals, the more confused I get about his character.

Martha sat at the far end, on my left, a sneer already etched into her face, she looked every bit the satan’s spawn I know she was. “Miss Patterson?” “That is none of your concern, let us move on with the reading.” I say plopping down on the opposite side of Martha. “It is, the will should not be read in front of a stranger.” “Why is Martha here?” “It is Jazz.” She snipes, “Look, I don’t have time to play pretend, he is not a stranger, move along please.” The lawyer sighed, “You are scared.” Martha says with her mouth curved into what she thinks is an intimidating smile, but she only looks like she is trying to poop.