My Sister's Keeper Book Cover 소설 & 이야기

She was not paying attention. I then asked the older sister who facing the unlit fireplace, she was stitching a scarf made out of red yarns, “Excuse me, sister, have you seen a book with a handwritten title on the cover? Its mine I left it yesterday.” But she only answered me a “No.” “Is this what you are looking for?” A stern voice said. And then I saw it, the plain white cover and the failed cursive of the title. Unfortunately, it was Sister Rene who was the one holding the book.

I take it out of the box gently and begin neatly removing the tape and wrapping paper. It's a book. The book has brown leather covering it. The language on it looks like that of the ancients and it's written in gold ink. "Kyra, I found something," I say not taking my eyes off the book and she comes up from behind me. "The tale of two sisters..." she says thoughtfully. "Our father used to tell us that story," she says and I turn the book over. I open it and notice the cover is thicker than a normal book cover.

Or was she? The light bounced on the cover revealing a figure before disappearing again when the book became straight. Curious, I turned it again in my hand. "Isn't that the Valkarie crest?" " Yes, " I grumbled my brows furrowing even more as I swallowed. "What the hell are you doing with a Valkarie diary? " I glanced at my brother seeing the confusion on his face as much as he held contempt.

Because of meaning. The elderly keeper approached the pedestal slowly. With respect. With affection. With the care one might show an old friend. Then he turned toward me. And smiled. "You've been looking for this your entire life." Silence. The crew looked between us. Hope looked especially interested. Dangerous. Very dangerous. I stepped closer. Heart racing unexpectedly. The book appeared ancient. Bound in silver and gold leather. Its cover worn smooth by countless hands. No title. No decoration. Only a small lantern embossed at the center.

he said. My chest tightened. Flashes hit me all at once, red smoke curling through a hallway, a man shouting in a language I didn't know, cold air biting my skin, being carried, the weight of arms around me. And a ring. A heavy silver ring with a black crest stamped into it. I sucked in a breath. "I remember a symbol." Rowan's entire demeanor shifted. The protective brother act dropped, replaced by something colder. Sharper. "What symbol?"

Celea landed again and show her brother the book she had found It had a black cover with absolutely nothing written on it and that wasn't even the weird thing about this book. The pages inside were also blank

she grumbles. Opening her locker, she reaches down to grab the books she took home out of her bag, the locker door slamming shut above her as a hand slams against it. She follows the large black Celtic style tattoo carved into his skin, only making out the bottom of the tattoo under his rolled up shirt sleeve. It doesn't look like a simple symbol like she has seen on a few other people, there are multiple symbols and designs within the base design, she can't get a clear enough look. "You really like checking me out, don't you?"

And I surely wasn’t expecting to sit here under HIS watchful gaze as he glared at me like I had stolen something so precious to him. Kayden Wolf Smith. My sister’s ever so elegant and painfully handsome fiancée who was now sitting opposite me at a large dinner table, glaring at me with the most intense animosity you could ever think of. The last time I saw him was at my sister’s funeral, and I haven’t seen him since. But nothing was changed, at least not the way he looked at me. So full of hatred and great loathing. I tried to find the reasons why he was burning me with his intense gaze, but the thought of me in his fiancee’s dress was enough to chill me to the core.

**The Keeper’s Dilemma** The morning brought little relief. The atmosphere in the house was suffocating, and the tension between the family members was palpable. Clara, Ethan, and Margaret sat in the dining room, the journal open between them. The words they’d read the night before still lingered, like an invisible force wrapping around their thoughts. “What does it mean to be the Keeper?” Clara asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Margaret looked thoughtful, her fingers tapping the table. “The Keeper is more than a title. It’s a responsibility. Whoever holds it is the balance between light and darkness. But that balance comes with a price.”

Hello, My name is Jane, and between my sister and me, I am the ugly one. And no, I am not an insecure bitch who likes to complain about my looks all the time. My sister Liliana is blessed with beautiful genes. She had long flowing blonde hair with bright blue eyes and pink lips that remind you of delicate flower petals.