Sisters Bond Quotes

From the time I was small, my mother told me I was my little brother's second mother. Hence, from age four, every mistake Danny Hartley made became mine to bear. When Danny dirtied the floor, I scrubbed it clean with a rag, inch by inch. When Danny stole, I wrote the apology letters. Then, I turned seven, and Danny accidentally hurt the convenience store owner's son. When the heavyset Hugo Osborn came to our door, Danny pointed at me without hesitation. "Sienna did it!" Mom did not hesitate either. She shoved me toward him. "Mr. Osborn, I didn't raise her right. That's on me. Take my daughter. Beat her, scold her, do whatever you want." What she had not known was that once Mr. Osborn took me away, I would never come back.

Mom and Dad keep claiming that I'm their firstborn, so they need to love me with all their hearts. Already, they're saving up for my college funds and keep taking me on vacations abroad just to explore the world. This time, I've gotten a full score on my exams. My parents decide to take me and my four-year-old sister, Amelia Orson, on a trip. Worried that I might mind Amelia's presence, they even specifically explain to me that no one is capable of taking care of Amelia in their stead, so she has to come along. I accept the explanation immediately. But Amelia falls sick right before the trip. There isn't any cough syrup left at home, so I use my pocket money to buy some imported cough syrup and feed Amelia with it. I thought I'd get praised for my efforts. Instead, Mom rushes over to induce vomiting for Amelia. With red-rimmed eyes, she scolds me, "How dare you feed her medicine without checking the source! Do you have any idea how lethal that is? When I was young, I almost died from a dose of misused medication fed by my own sister! How dare you try to harm Amelia, you wretched child!" After that, Mom tells Dad to bring out his suitcase so that she can lock me up in it. "You want to go on a trip because you've scored full marks in your exams, right? Fine! Have all the fun you want in the suitcase!" What they've forgotten is the fact that Dad often uses this suitcase on his business trips, so there's a TSA-approved lock on it. I can't even open the suitcase from inside.

Alexander Morrison doesn't love me, nor does he love our daughter. The only person he loves is his first love, Charlotte Clarke. To maintain his perfect image in Charlotte's eyes, he only allows our daughter to call him "Uncle Alex". This continues until Charlotte becomes pregnant and goes abroad to marry someone else. Alexander drinks himself into oblivion and finally decides to marry me. When he comes home, our daughter gives him 100 forgiveness coupons. I tell him that once those 100 coupons are used up, I'll take our daughter and leave him forever. He holds us both tightly in his arms, swearing he will never make us sad again. During the initial few years of our secret marriage, he indeed does exceptionally well, as not a single coupon is used. That is, until Charlotte returns to the country with her daughter. Every time he abandons me and our daughter for Charlotte and her child, I tear off one forgiveness coupon. Now, only three coupons remain.

My mom was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her life is smooth-sailing most of the time. The only mistake she's ever made is falling for my dad. That's why she insists on finding me a husband who's the complete opposite of my dad. My dad is tall and intimidating-looking, so Mom wants someone who's short and perverted-looking. My dad is a knowledgeable and well-read man, so Mom wants a guy who has only graduated from elementary school. My dad prioritizes his moral integrity more than anything else, so Mom prefers a guy who drinks, gambles, and sleeps around. She tells me, "This type of man is easy to manipulate, unlike your father, who just divorced me out of nowhere!" It's true that the man Mom has chosen for me won't divorce me. After all, he leeches from me on top of beating me up. It's not enough to leech my money from me, it seems—he just has to take everything from me. My mom says in a righteous tone, "This is the only way that proves you're valuable to him. He won't divorce you at all." I've fought back and escaped from my husband many times. Every time I do, my mom will trick me into returning to him by hurting herself. As always, I'm greeted with another round of beating whenever I do return to him. Mom will take me to the hospital to get my injuries treated. Then, she'll say, "Hurry up and give birth to a son for him. Once you have a son, you'll be extremely valuable to your husband. He won't beat you up anymore." Today is supposed to be the day Mom takes me to the hospital to check my ovulation timing. She spends a long time calling me on the phone, yet I never pick up. After that, she sends me a few audio messages that last for 60 seconds each just to lecture me. "Beatrice Anderson, what makes you think you can just ignore my calls? The hospital check-up is for your own good! As long as you can get pregnant with a son, your husband will be wrapped around your finger! He won't divorce you after this! Why can't you understand how much I care for you?" I seriously can't understand at all. After all, I've gotten beaten to death yesterday. My corpse is cut into 28 chunks, and they are being frozen in the fridge as I speak.

My insanely wealthy parents always tell me that they came from a poor background. As their children, my siblings and I mustn't waste our lives away on fun and games. They set up a trial for me by requesting that I submit an application in advance for all expenses that are over 50 cents. On the day I'm supposed to take my SATs, it's raining heavily outside. Since my exam venue is located 18 miles away from home, I decide to submit an application for a 100-dollar Uber fee. But my dad slaps me in return. "We used to scale over mountains just to get to school back in the day! Don't think you get to enjoy the perks of transportation just because we have money!" After that, he empties my pockets before kicking me out of the house. I end up all sprawled on the muddy ground while feeling raindrops pelting on me relentlessly. When I finally reach the exam venue on foot, I notice the news being played on the huge screen across the street. It turns out that my parents and William Gentry, my older brother, have spent ten million dollars on a popular band to celebrate my adopted sister, Selene Gentry, earning a passing grade on her math test. Apparently, passing her math test is her trial.

My younger brother, Owen Rivera, and I are playing in Dad's refrigerated truck. Owen wants to grab my ice cream from me, but I refuse to let him have his way. He shoves me forcefully, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the floor, knocking me out on the spot. When I finally wake up and locate him in the freezer, I find out that he's gotten reduced to a frozen statue. The security footage shows that Owen has been screaming the words "Mommy, help me!" hysterically for three hours before his death. After Mom is done watching the footage, she breaks down on the spot. Then, she yanks me by my hair before slamming me against the wall. "What were you doing? You were at the entrance, dammit! Why didn't you open the door for Owen?" With reddened eyes, Dad throws me into the freezer. "Owen was cold and frightened in the freezer! You should have a taste of the same thing too!" The thick and heavy door is slammed in my face. Darkness and a bone-chilling coldness devour me instantly. I curl into a small ball in the corner Owen has just died in. My teeth are starting to chatter, and my consciousness is starting to slip away. I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. I don't feel cold. I'm not cold at all. I will never eat ice cream ever again in my next lifetime.

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.

Bound by debt and haunted by a past she can't speak of, Annamaria is offered as a bride to Ares de Luca Sinclair, the ruthless head of the Sicilian mafia. He needs her secret; she craves revenge. Ares believes Annamaria holds the key to stopping a Russian mob invasion, but he doesn't know she blames him for her family's massacre and has vowed to get her revenge on him. As their lives intertwine, the lines between enemy and lover blur. But their fragile bond is threatened by a vengeful half-brother hungry for Ares's power, a scorned woman determined to reclaim her place by his side, and a forbidden love that refuses to be denied. When the truth is finally revealed, Annamaria finds herself a pawn in a deadly game. Kidnapped and tortured, she's forced to confront the secrets she's desperately trying to protect. Ares, consumed by betrayal, unleashes his fury, unaware he's playing right into the hands of his enemies. Will their love survive the lies, the betrayals, and the ever-present threat of the mafia underworld? Or will their dangerous dance end in heartbreak and ruin?

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?