Rachel Kushner Books Novels & Stories

Rachel shut her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up from the nightmare she was living, but when she opened them again, the print on title page remained; Legal Briefs by Cynthia Anderson. Rachel stared at it in astonishment, reading it once more to convince herself she was not hallucinating, then she threw the manuscript back at Peter, nearly knocking his coffee cup off the desk. “Is this some kind of a joke?” She shouted, enraged. “If it is, we’re not laughing. Ms. Anderson came into this office yesterday morning before the hearing, claiming Legal Briefs is her book,” “That’s insane! She’s a goddamn postal worker! What would she know about a plot about lawyers?”

“She couldn’t have—” My voice trailed off as I thought about darkness. “Just be careful, Lila.” I looked back up at him and nodded. “I’ll see you later,” I said to him as I turned and left the arena. …. Rachel sat in the back corner of the library at a small table with her history textbook laid out in front of her. She had a notebook to the side of the textbooks with different colored notes sprawled out on the thin paper. She had her fingers dug into her dark hair and I could see that she was incredibly stressed.

Kelly asked referring to Rachel. “Yes, any problem with that?” Kelly scoffed. The guts! “Stop wasting your time. Rachel is for me!”Kelly said. “And in what book is that written? I like Rachel...I don’t bolt in my feelings. I know you like her too but then...let the best man wins” Jabal states and walked away. ========================== [BREAK PERIOD] “Same group with Jabal is equal to attempted suicide..”Rachel said as she packs her books into her locker.

“Something outrageous. With a pulley system and a trapdoor. Something that says ‘adventure’ and ‘home’ all at once.” She smiled, her heart a warm, full ache in her chest. This was the man she had married. Not the besieged strategist, but the builder of treehouses. “I got a letter today,” she said softly. “From Rachel Mirren.” She felt him go still. “And?” “She’s written a book. About power, coercion, and the failure of institutions. She wants to dedicate it to ‘the resilience of survivors.’ She asked for our blessing.” The ghost of their old life, reaching out in the form of a dedication. Not a threat, but an acknowledgment.

But every so often I catch her glancing at me with concern. The second time I notice, she quickly grabs a book and pretends to study it with intense focus. The title? Unavailable Men: How To Avoid Them. Wow. Rude. Also… extremely suspicious timing. And somehow… I have a terrible feeling she might be trying to tell me something. It doesn’t help. Not even a little. If anything, it makes things worse. The problem isn’t that Rachel’s wrong. The problem is that she’s completely right and somehow my brain still refuses to accept it.

Rachel’s POV The moment I stepped out of Raphael Enterprises, I felt like invisible eyes were following every moment I made. Most employees had already gone home after the disastrous luncheon, but a few people still lingered outside the building pretending not to stare at me. The phone in my hand vibrated, there were headlines RAPHAEL HEIRESS LINKED TO MATTHEW KANE, INSIDE THE SECRET SCANDAL OF RACHEL RAPHAEL. I just stared with no emotions. The comments underneath were worse

Something is scribbled across it in Rachel's handwriting. "Lies and secrets, they are like a cancer in the soul. They eat away at what is good and leave only destruction behind". "This sounds like something an Arrowverse or Marvel character would say", I laugh at Rachel. "Cassandra Clare", Rachel calls out. "Don't know her." "She's one of my favorite authors. She wrote The Mortal Instruments." "Never thought of that either", I shrug. "Where are you with your speech?" "Literally nowhere." "Do you want to go grocery shopping? Your fridge is empty and I'm having this weird craving for gummy worms", I suggest, not wanting to spend a second longer watching Rachel write her speech.

The door creaked open and in came Rafe, I recognized his shoes. "Boss, there's an important matter we need to discuss." Rafe carefully told me. "I'm listening," I blankly uttered. I briefly looked up at him and noticed that it had become light outside again. Thousands of people dies and the world keeps spinning and the sun keeps shining. It must be some kind of sick joke that the universe keeps making. Over and over again. "It's Hera." Rafe uttered and my head shot up at him. I frowned before getting up from where I was sitting and frowned at him.

Running her hands unconsciously on the well stacked books, she walked through the spaces between the giant bookshelves. Anatomy, Physiology, Chemistry, Physics... One by one, she picked from each shelf, humming absentmindedly. In less than a minute, she slid into her favourite spot between two huge book shelves. An hour passed and then another, headphones in ear, brain on hyper speed, eyes fixed wholly on the material.. Rachel was lost to the world.

Or had there been a struggle? Rachel stepped past him, carefully avoiding a collection of discarded shoes and a stack of books with titles like The Tao of Meow and The Heart of Yoga. She crossed to the window and touched the collage of wilting plants on the sill. Shadows bruised her face, deepening her high cheekbones, making her look small and haunted. Not liking the effect, he switched on the light in the breakfast nook. He watched her gaze roam over the room, her eyes narrowed and troubled. It amazed him that the two women were related. They’d lived through the same experiences, suffered the same losses and fears, yet were black and white, as opposite as two people could be. Rachel was th