Novel & Cerita The Book Woman's Daughter

I begged, tears streaming down my face, "Mom, please listen to me! It's not like that; why won't you just hear me out—" Before I could finish, a series of slaps left me dazed, stars dancing in my vision. As she paused to catch her breath, her voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. "How did I end up with such a shameless daughter? You're the third wheel, and you're accusing her of being the other woman! Get out of my face! I don't have a daughter as pathetic as you!"

That petite body of hers, those plump pink lips, so inviting and seductive, her innocent looks… Yet, somehow she had this strong aura that could make any man obey her orders with just as much as a wink. I was doomed, but I was starting to make peace with my decision. Colby would have to forgive me for doing this, but I would also guarantee he would be proud of me for making his daughter happy. I was going to at least try. No matter how broken or damaged I was, or how f*cked up my life was. For Rosie, I would try my hardest. As we finally headed inside to start getting ready for the night, I let her go ahead first and take a shower since she’d need more time to have her hair and makeup done.

Anger took over—the anger of a mother protecting her child. “Get away from my daughter!” the Woman screamed. She didn’t reach for the pen. Instead, she grabbed a bottle of white-out—the liquid that erases mistakes—and dumped it over the officer’s black ink on the notebook. Then she scooped up Maya and Julian in one hand and the notebook in the other. She ran for the window. “Where are we going?” Julian shouted, clinging to the Woman’s thumb. “Out of the book!” the Woman cried. They reached the window, but the officer was already there. He didn’t look human anymore. His skin peeled away, revealing layers of shredded paper and black ink. He was a monster, made from Deleted Scenes.

“I thought that the woman lied to me and pointed me to the wrong person. I was so mad, you know? But I found out later that the girl was your real daughter, and we treated her ‘really nicely’. “Judging by your expression, I feel it was much better than killing you! Hahaha!” My father stared at All Stars. “Who’s that woman?” “Don’t you know? We caught one woman before your daughter. She said that she was tortured while under your care and hates you. She said that if we let her go, she’d help us catch you. “But she lied to me. Still, we managed to kill your daughter, and that’s still great. It feels much better making you live in the eternal pain of losing your only remaining family.

the man enthused and my lips parted in shock Deaths? As in plural? I blinked severally while I heard the woman begin to cry quietly I couldn't really make sense of the conversation but it seemed like their daughter killed a bunch of people or something like that "Oh Tony" the woman continued to cry "Our poor daughter, I wonder where she is right now. If she's safe and has a roof over her head, if she's eating and sleeping well. Gosh, she probably thinks we hate her" "Well, it's not like we're proud of her either" the man muttered as the woman broke down in sobs

Just like that? Her hazel eyes are so dark, she’s not smiling like the rest of them, my mother is beside her, her wavy brown hair cascading down her shoulders. My father is stoic, though there’s a little hard smile playing on the corner of his lips. Is there more to their gang that I don’t know about? Who’s the woman? And, why won’t no body talk about her? What the fuck did she actually do? The woman’s holding a book, clearly etched on her hand, as though no one should know the content. I stare at it, confused, and angry.

Meanwhile, on the woman’s side, by the time she opened her eyes, she found herself locked in a dark room and the familiar cries of her daughter rang in her eyes jolting her awake. “Darling!” she cried out as she reached for her daughter in the dark and the little girl’s trembling body lunged into her arms. The woman held her daughter with anguish boiling in her and tears streamed down her cheeks as she regretted it badly. If only she hasn’t talked with that woman. If only ….. it was because of her curiosity that she had made themselves end up in this kind of situation. She has sent both she and her darling daughter into the wolf’s den. Who could save her now?

Didn’t hear the follow-up questions, the commands, the sudden flurry of movement. All I heard was the roaring in my ears. A woman. Bloodied. Running out of breath. My mind screamed one name so loudly it drowned out reason. Rissaaaa… I lurched forward, seatbelt biting into my shoulder as I reached for the door. “That’s her,” I whispered, then louder, shaking, “That’s my daughter!” “Ma’am…” the inspector grabbed my arm, firm. “We need confirmation.” Confirmation? How many bloodied women were stumbling out of abandoned warehouses at midnight?

The woman who’d replaced her wasn’t safe, but she was sure. Her fingers brushed her wrist. The pulse there had steadied into something new. Stronger. Tamer. Hers. She closed her eyes. The rain went on talking against the glass, an old language made of rhythm and patience. Outside, somewhere deep in the city, the streets steamed under the downpour, washing away the stains of someone else’s war. Somewhere, in a room she had not yet entered, men were whispering her name. Telling each other that the Don’s daughter had finally stepped into the weather—that she had become her father’s child in truth, maybe even something more.

" You already believe what you want to believe. Will it make any difference if I tell you the truth all over again? You are deaf, dumb and blind. " The woman was still persistent. " But who are you? " She begged again. " Oh, don't you know me already. Did you just not introduce me to your daughter as the Daughter of the Damned? " With another wave, she left the room as it was again engulfed in darkness. The only thing left behind was the tingling sensation of sprinkled stardust.