Mary Esther Library Novels & Stories

Mother and Esther, are the devil’s living whores! In the shadows of the darkened cottage, Faye was too stunned to speak. She looked to Esther at her side, seeking confirmation and understanding. This was too much. Mary, the one who murdered Eli’s father, was Mathilda’s daughter. What madness had Esther taken her to? ‘You may speak freely, Faye, ’Esther said. ’These are impressions of the past, and they cannot see, nor hear us.’ ‘Esther, why have you brought me here?’

I had stood my ground, and the sky had not fallen. ​AMARA'S POV ​Late that evening, the library had grown dark, the fire in the hearth burning down to a pile of glowing red embers. I was packing up my notes when Martha slipped quietly into the room, ensuring the hallway behind her was completely empty before she closed the door. ​She walked toward me with quick, hushed steps, her hands tucked anxiously into the folds of her apron. ​"My lady," Martha whispered, her voice laced with a strange, nervous energy.

Despite the weight of pressure and Hannah’s attacks pressing down on me, I would be alright. “I need to brush up on my etiquette,” I parroted Axel’s words. A proud smile slipped onto Mara’s face. Suddenly, I started to wonder if Luna Diane had sent her to me. I was still deciding if to ask when Mara turned around and dragged me down the stairs. *** “Is the library usually this…desolate?” I asked, scanning the rows of dusty books. Some of them had cobwebs on them and actual spiders building families in the spaces in front of the shelves. They had likely not been touched in years, if not a decade.

The damp, cool air smelled of wet brick and distant coffee. He watched the front entrance of the Veridia Bay Central Library. It was a grand, aging building of carved stone, standing like a stubborn fortress against the glass towers downtown. According to Marcos's dossier, Alexandra Reed arrived at 8:45 AM each weekday. She was an archivist. A keeper of silent, paper worlds. At 8:43 AM, she appeared.

I parked in the driveway and when I stepped out I was surprised to see Esther seated on the porch. “Hi, Mason,” she waved at me and I smiled at her. “Hey Esther,” I went over to sit with her. “How are you?” “I’m feeling so good, never been better,” she said with a wide smile on her face. “ I’m glad to see that you’re recovering so fast,” I said, sitting beside her, joining in the absolute nothingness. “Thanks Mason, are you here to see Emily, well, you missed her. She left hours ago.”

YOU HAVE BROUGHT SHAME TO THIS FAMILY. Ethan stared at the screen. A second notification arrived. Mara Where are you? I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes. Don’t make me come looking for you. For the first time that day… He felt like someone actually wanted to see him. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and headed toward the library. The law library stood a short walk away. Behind it was a small courtyard most students ignored. There was an old almond tree there, its wide branches shielding a row of weathered wooden benches from the afternoon sun.

She grabbed my wrist and pulled me along before anything else could happen, weaving through the crowd until we found a quieter corner where no one seemed interested in bothering us, and once we settled in, I finally let out a breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding. “I need a drink,” I muttered, already signaling the waiter. “Actually, bring four bottles of martini.” Esther’s brows pulled together immediately, and before the waiter could even nod, she cut in. “One is enough,” she said firmly. “I’m not going to sit here and watch her ruin herself.” “You’re no fun,” I shot back with a pout, but she just looked at me, and the look in her eyes softened, making something in my chest tight

Sean’s office wasn’t too far either, but it was in the opposite direction. Esther’s HQ wasn’t located on a main road. It had originally been an ordinary office that went bankrupt. Esther rented it at a low cost and set up her designers on the second floor. The first floor was mostly unused at first, but once they had finished samples, it became a space for photography. Now, it had turned into a favorite spot for local artists and photographers. It almost felt like an art studio. “There was even an art exhibit here once. Lots of photographers come by. If I ever move, this place might just turn into an art center.”

Because respect, unlike fear, was something that could be earned rather than simply commanded. "Thank you," I said, meaning it. "That's... helpful advice." Mary rose from her chair with the fluid efficiency of someone accustomed to managing a dozen tasks simultaneously. "This library has always been a place of peace in the castle," she said, her gaze taking in the soaring shelves with obvious affection. "If you ever need somewhere quiet to think, somewhere to... process difficult truths, you're always welcome here." Difficult truths. The phrase hung in the air between us like a promise and a warning combined.