The Last Sister Novels & Stories

Indeed, Katrienair has the best sister in the world. You'll forgive the same demons who burned you day and night in a caged, who killed your spirit every hour, who hung your head on a downward cross, who tried to clear out your race, who threw you into a lake of fire, who ruined your once perfect life. You'll forgive the same demon who killed your parent, who destroyed all you've ever lived for, all for the sake of your sister. Who does that?!

Loretta Geum. I sigh in relief. Thank goodness I don't have anyone of those dreaded people on the list. I literally want to throw myself on the floor like a mad man and shout a thank you to every dirty on Earth.......at least until.... My breath hitched and I scanned the last but one name. Ariana Skylar J. Seriously my sister? Ariana? You've got to be kidding me. I groan and then I glance down at the last name and momentarily freeze. If I thought my sister being in my group was bad, then this is a whole lot worse.

“Different.” I turned, spatula in hand, staring at the two tiny humans I’d carried home in my body five years ago and who had since officially stolen all my sleep and most of my sanity. “Maxime Rafaello Gómez,” my voice jumped half an octave, the Latina tone snapping out on its own. “If you make your sister fall again, I swear you’re having steamed broccoli for breakfast for a month!” He glanced back, those too-familiar blue eyes blinking with pure guilt. “But I’m hungry,” he protested. “And Issa is very annoying.”

"Easy." I stared at the table. At the grain of the wood blurring in front of me. "So I'm not your sister." Lucien answered. "Not by blood." Elias added quietly, "But by choice." That should've helped. Should've felt like something. It didn't. I turned to Rowan, my gaze steady even though my hands were shaking. "And you?" His throat worked. Once. Twice. Then: "You were never my sister." The room went dead silent.

It felt like the blood in my veins had stopped moving. "If I hadn't felt sorry for you because you're a girl, the one they sent wouldn't have been Tommy. It would have been you!" That sentence buried itself in my chest like a spike of ice, twisting through everything inside me until there was nothing that did not hurt. I finally learned the truth! It was never about me saying 'goodbye' to a girl from school. It was never about me 'not knowing the rules'. The reason I was sent to that hell was my own sister. It was because she refused to break up with her boyfriend.

she said in a voice that didn't sound like hers. I almost chuckled. I proceeded to tell her why exactly I couldn't leave her in that position, even though I knew deep down that she was capable. She looked broken. I wanted to enjoy her misery, but I couldn't. I shrugged it off and walked out, but not before making sure I stripped her of that control she didn't know she had. I left there and went back to Stone Holdings. I buried myself in work until I got a reminder from my calendar. Isabel's birthday was coming soon.

Andrea strikes Killian with the most hurtful thing she could ever say. “Andrea! You are my real sister. I..I love you more than I love myself.” Killian says urgently. “You sound so artificial right now, brother. Keep telling yourself that. I will be out of your way now.” She chuckles humorlessly, walking out of the door. “Andrea, you are drunk. Get back here. Don't go anywhere.” “Don't worry about me, brother. I will be just fine.” With that she storms out of his room, leaving him alone to deal with despair.

Even after a decade, we still did not know our neighbours first names and only entered their houses when necessary, which never happened. "Good afternoon," I say making sure to stand a few feet away so the leaves won't land on me. He stops shearing and smiles at me and says a good afternoon, there are wrinkles around his eyes and his hands are heavily veined. "My sister Lucinda died. I just thought that you should know." I can't recognize my voice, is it pain that makes my voice strained?

Her transformation had not gone as far as that of Svetlana’s father: he had empty holes where his eyes had been but hers harbored black furry spiders quivering inside her irises. I’m an orphan now, Svetlana thought dully. It’s not too bad to be an orphan. The Voice is our father. I don’t need anybody else. Not mother, father, or . . . I had a sister named Sveta. My sister was a pest. I bet you are a good girl . . . Andrei! The cry in her mind was so loud that she was sure the eyeless puppets would hear it, but they did not stir. Brother! Help!

However there was never a light at the end of the tunnel, just as I was about to latch onto her hand, they ran her into a ward and the door shut after them. I felt a hand take mine with a soft gentle touch. Beth. My last sister and the closest to my mother. I didn’t need to look at her to feel the weight of her gaze. Or to feel the question dancing at the tip of her tongue. I squeezed down on her hand. Trying to force her little strength into my fimble body. “Is she going to be alright?” Her voice, soft as a feather, asked.