My Younger Sister Novels & Stories

“Sydney. He’s older by a few minutes. You can only imagine how we used to butt heads when we were young.” I scan his face, unable to read the emotions playing behind his eyes. “We have a younger sister, Misty. She’s turning twenty in a few months. I know what it’s like to have a little sister, especially one like Shosanna. Misty and Shosanna aren’t that different. I get it, okay? That feeling like you’re not in control? I understand.” I stare at him. He stares at me with the same intensity. “You don’t know me,” I whisper.

“Oh, I'm planning to.” “I know your little brother is sleeping but still you can't say things like that in front of him.” “Ok. I have an older sister too. She's only four years older than me.” “Can't wait to meet her. Wait, she's not like your mom, is she?” “No, she's uh... well you'll see tomorrow. But I'm a hundred percent sure that she'll like you. She likes everyone.” “Ok, I guess.”

"Nyla, apologize to your younger sister!" Nyla smirked. "Oh? So you do acknowledge that she's younger than me? Tell me, have you ever seen a younger sister screaming at her older sister like that? Calling her deaf? What poor manners."

"What happened? How do you even know Aurora? What was she to you?" Her face darkened. She looked down at her lap, as if gathering strength to open a box she had kept shut for too long. "She's my sister," she said. I blinked. "What?" She nodded. "My younger sister. We were only two years apart. Grew up in the same house, shared the same bedroom for years. We were supposed to run the family business together after our parents passed." I stared at her. That couldn't be true. But it was.

I almost cried when I realized today was the death anniversary of my late sister Stella. Growing up, my older sister, Stella, always seemed to have it all. She was the golden child, the apple of my mother's eye. While I tried to find my place among the shadows, Stella effortlessly commanded attention. She had inherited our mother's stunning looks and confident demeanor, making her the epitome of their shared aspirations.

I didn't want to go through that memory lane again. I shook my head again and continued. "I have a sister, Evangeline. Eva in short. She's almost nine years younger than me. My only sibling and the girl takes full advantage of that." I smiled fondly and chanced a glance at Adrian to gauge his reaction. No one in the business world knew about my family and I'd kept it that way. But I didn't see any surprise in his eyes.

“She’s heavy.” I slipped Millie into my arms, and she curled up against my shoulder without even protesting. “I can,” I assured her, smiling a little. “I have a younger sister too.” Callie stared in surprise. “You do?” “Yeah. Isla. She’s fourteen now. But she was even more of a brat than Millie back then.” I chuckled softly. “She used to throw spaghetti on the walls and scream at the top of her lungs just because I told her to wear socks.”

I don't like feeling that way. "What?" she presses. "You took all the light with you," I say simply. Clearing my throat, knowing I sound like a sentimental fool, I continue telling her about my family. "My other brother is Rylan, and I also have a sister named Finley. She's the youngest at 22." "So, there are four of you," she muses. "There are four of us, too." "Tell me," I urge her as we walk across the grass together, now passing by Roberto's place and heading toward the main house.

“My parents are doing their best. But that doesn’t mean I'll stop trying to do mine.” He tilted his head slightly. “My parents already have enough on their plate,” I continued. “I don’t want to call home every time I need something; books, rent, groceries. The list is endless.” I swallowed. “My sister, Jessica just had surgery a few months ago.” His brows furrowed. “You have a sister?” I nodded. “She’s twelve.” “What happened?” I shifted my feet, hugging my bag a little closer to my chest.

and Wren decided, on the spot, that she did not want to be a poor girl. “I am here because for a month I have stood among you under a borrowed name, and you have been kind to me, and I cannot let you be kind to someone who doesn’t exist.” She turned her head. “And I am here for my sister. She was raised to be the one they chose, and they used her too. Whatever she did, she did because she was taught that love is something you win. I don’t hate her.” On the stage, Sera’s chin trembled. For the first time in her life, Wren thought, her sister looked exactly like what she was: someone who had been waiting a very long time to be told she could put something down.