Mother Miranda Face Novels & Stories

"Go ahead! I will not abandon my children. Not again! Come on in, kids, you must be tired and hungry." Phillip smiled triumphantly hearing his father say that especially seeing Miranda's face, who was very upset. She didn't look pretty at all right now, she looked more like a long-nosed granny with a bright red face and gleaming purplish eyes. Wait a minute, Phillip sharpened his eyesight, then realized Miranda did look like that. Miranda looked much older with red, wrinkled skin, a long nose, and glowing purple eyes. He raised both gaunt hands, giving off a purple glow.

She regretted that she had made the mistake of coming back at all. "Nazi!!" called out Magdalena, "Mother, are you home?!" Something made a noise inside the shack. Clearly, someone was home. “Mom!! Aunt Tamia, are you in there?” Magdalena shouted. The wooden door slowly opened, and a frightening-looking woman appeared in the doorway. It was not aunt Tamia, whose face had been deformed since childhood. It was Nazi, Magdalena’s mother.

Before anyone did a thing, the woman behind Alpha Milo got up from the wall. Walking towards us, she said, “alright, we have a big ass job to work with. My name is Mara, I’m Marcela’s mother, and Mira is Miracle's mom, I’m going to go on a limb and say you,” she points at my antes body on the bed, “are Miracle?” She nods, a bit frightened.

Emma continued wiping down the counter, lost in thought. Miranda’s excitement faltered as she scrolled frantically. “Huh… wait, the pictures of his face—they’re gone. Taken down already.” She tapped the screen repeatedly. “Sigh… this is the world of the rich. His pictures aren’t even allowed to stay online. Just… gone in minutes.” But Miranda quickly brightened again, her grin mischievous. “But hey! At least I can still look at the ones showing his back view and side profile. That’s something, right?”

Mum said. “You want to know what You did?" I chuckled teary as I shrieked. “What you did is that you hurt. You hurt me so much, especially you mum!" ”M.... mum?" Mum asked in surprise. Of course they should be surprised. Who will know that the ugly Miranda will ever be beautiful. “Yes, mum.... I am ... Miranda, I am your daughter Miranda." I finally let out the truth. I couldn't hold back the tears. The shock on their faces was visible.

someone muttered nearby. Miranda’s face twitched at the comments. Her carefully constructed mask began to crumble—her lower lip trembling slightly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She didn’t expect this confrontation—not when she knew she was at fault. “Shut the fuck up, all of you!” Miranda screamed, her voice trembling. “You’re wrong! Fine—I did it! I used artificial insemination just to have President Ferrero’s child. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Gasps echoed around the room. Her father looked stunned, while her grandmother’s expression twisted into a mask of bitter disappointment.

Even Professor Kendra’s mouth fell open. Miranda blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Your daughter?” she repeated, confusion flickering across her face. Then her eyes narrowed into sharp slits. “Wait. You’re her bitch mother?” The insult barely left her mouth before my mother reacted. In a flash, she grabbed Miranda by the hair and yanked hard. Miranda let out a sharp cry, her body bending awkwardly under the sudden pull. “Let me go! Ow! Let me go!” Miranda shrieked, clawing at my mother’s wrist.

" Anthony warned her. What Anthony said pained Miranda deeply, she crawled to the sitting and wore her clothes, and got out of Anthony's room without uttering a word. **** "Mum, good evening," Miranda greeted her mother immediately after she got home. "What's that plastered face for, Miranda?" Helga was shocked to see her daughter's face swollen and well-plastered. After she left Oswald Villa covering her swollen face dripping with blood with clothes, she went to the hospital to get the face treated. "Oh! Mum! It's fine, it was in the acting room that I got my face hit on the wall. I had to drop the role because it was too hard to do, that's where I got my face injured," Miranda lied.

Then she picked up her mobile phone and saw Amy's smiling face on the screen, and without wasting any time, she answered it while Soraia, having already tried to call her mother - and like her aunt, failed - called Miranda. Miranda was sitting under a rock, neither too close nor too far from the camp - and consequently from Katrina who was talking to Sheila - after all she had already learned that anything related to her daughter would be related to Miranda. Her mobile phone rang, and as it was beside her, she saw Soraia's face on the screen and smiled. -So, how are you feeling? -How are you feeling? Both asked at the same time and laughed, but it was Soraia who had given continuity to her a

I turned to see Miranda Jacques’ mom standing by his door. “Ma'am Miranda!” I said, walking over to give her a side hug. “How are you, my dear?” she asked, hands folded across her chest. “Doing good. What can I say?” Miranda was in her late 60s, petite, and easy for me to tower over in my 3-inch heels. “You look good,” she smiled. “Tell me, how are you really doing?” “Fine, Ma'am. Though it’s getting a bit unbearable here.” “I know, my dear,” she chuckled.