Mrs Granger Novels & Stories

Standing in the living room, Matron Mary Ann is looking at a picture hanging on one of walls, as I get closer I realize it’s a picture of Commander Mortensen and Grace. “Look at my sweet Grace. She used to be under my care too, did you know that? It was such a joy to have her in my group. Oh, how we all at the Center miss her! She was so beautiful, wasn’t she?” Matron Mary Ann asks as she sight with melancholy. “She was,” I reply curtly.

a voice calls to me and I can finally think clearly enough to recognize the voice. Mrs. Stephens. She's in the house, holding a stick or maybe a bunch of weeds, I can't tell through the fog of smoke. All I do know is, Atticus is nowhere in sight. Thank Christ. I reach up to Candice and take her hand, though it hurts like hell, as Mrs. Stephens begins chanting. "I banish you from this house. Only love, light, and peace may enter." She blows on the burning stick, making the tip brighter as scattered embers begin to fall.

"Bestie! Bestie!! Bestie!!!" Mrs. Allen yelled as she let herself into the small home of Mrs. Rogers and her daughter. She looked around, ignoring the untouched meal on the faded table in the living room. "Where are you, Grace?!" She yelled again. Mrs. Rogers came out of the kitchen with a towel which she used in wiping the water off her hands. She has on an apron that was relatively still new. It was so because Isabella recently bought a new one.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lockwood.” “You don’t have to call me that. Just Wren.” “Oh, I know,” she said with a grin and a giggle. “It’s just fun to call you that.” She made me laugh a little with that, and I sighed with relief. It was the first time I got to look at her. She wore the same kind of business casual clothes as Julia—skirt, nice shirt, and sometimes a sweater or blazer. Maybe in her mid-twenties, she looked like any girl at my old school. She was pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair that had a small wave.

Who focused on the road with her leg steady on the accelerator. Something isn't right Arlene Said to herself. She realised screaming and shouting at Barb wouldn’t change a thing. She behaved like a programmed robot who had malfunctioned. There were no signs of her being human anymore, like who would hit her husband and speed off without a care? She decided to take the wheel by trying to push her mum’s hands away from the steering, their father and husband was dying, he needed help and there she was running away from something she did. Barbs hand wouldn’t bulge; it became as strong and heavy as osmium.

JANE I heard the words leave my mouth before I could stop them. "It's only fair to end this with a little bit of crass, is it not?" His eyebrows went up. Interest flickered across his face. I stood, tucking the bills into my purse with deliberate slowness. Five hundred dollars. That was textbooks and maybe even groceries that weren't ramen. My hands weren't shaking anymore. I was Jailbird now. Fully Jailbird. Jane Puckett was locked away somewhere safe.

Emilia Clark I sat still, fidgeting nervously as I waited for my interview with Mrs. Grey. I knew little about her, except that she was the Chairwoman of Grey Enterprises, a multi-billion dollar company previously run by her son, Damien Grey. No one had seen or heard from Damien since he was reportedly involved in an accident two years ago.

Tugging at her hair, she screamed hysterically, "She should've died! Everything she had should've been mine! Simon should've been mine! "Once she's dead, I can finally become his mate." Mom stumbled back, dazed. "She's gone mad…" she murmured. "Zora, my poor daughter… I'm so sorry!" Her eyes rolled back, and then she collapsed. Dad silently caught Mom in his arms. His presence grew imposing as he glowered at Laila and snarled, "From now on, Zora is my only daughter. As for you, you're disowned. Someone like you doesn't deserve to be my daughter!"

That I can nail it. I will make James proud and Margot can eat her words. James will stand at my side, and everyone will look at us and see power, not messy media clickbait. I’m fighting back. A tone pings from the wall console near the hallway, one of the mansion’s biometric systems just activated. A visitor. Facial recognition confirms the identity before I even check the screen. “Theo Granger is at the east portico entrance,” it voices. Seconds later, head of staff here Mrs. Everson’s voice comes over the intercom.

Granger brought her to a party, the people around were talking about her, that was when she knew who she was. Ms. Granger had just returned from overseas, and her family business was big. Trina even heard that Ms. Granger was fond of Jackson Miller. She put the pieces together and finally understood why Ms. Granger had been looking for her. Ms. Granger must have seen Fiona as her rival.