Author: Harlan Covington

Emma stood before the mirror in her white dress, scarcely believing how things had unfolded.

Victor folded his newspaper, the sharpness of Margaret’s voice still hanging in the air. She stood rigid

**Friday, 19th May** Honestly, I despised my sister since we were girls. “Don’t you dare

“He is not my son,” the millionaire declared coldly, his voice echoing through the marble hall.

He sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. “Well… your flat. Our old place. I mean—it was ours

The city buzzes with evening energy—car horns honk, footsteps tap against the pavement, and laughter

Maureen stood by the kitchen window, a mug of cooled tea in her hands, watching children play in the garden.

**Diary Entry** I stood in front of the mirror, fussing over my outfit—a simple white dress I’d snatched

THE RESOURCEFUL OLD CHAP We’re visiting the father-in-law in his countryside cottage, a good sixty

Margaret never liked asking for help, not even when times were hard. She’d always been fiercely