Lydia was a quiet, plain girl. Even her mother admitted that nature hadn’t been kind—her thin hair, strong
“I Tried to Be Nice” “Margaret, I’m telling you for the last time—either clear that
**Happiness in the Palm of My Hand** Emily studied her reflection in the mirror—her long face, sharp
“What do you mean, give up my share?” Emily’s voice trembled. “Margaret, this is my husband’s inheritance!
Amelia pulled up outside her mother-in-law’s house and checked her watch. Half an hour early—bloody typical. “
**Diary Entry – A Move That Became a Goodbye** “What are you on about, Lorraine?”
One evening, Emily Whitmore placed the last marked exercise book on top of the stack at the edge of her desk.
**Second Doesn’t Mean Less** “Mum, I don’t want to go to Gran’s!” wailed seven-year-old Emily
Emily Whitmore placed the last marked exercise book on top of the pile at the edge of her desk.
The Middle One Isn’t the Unwanted One “Mummy, I don’t want to go to Grandma’s!”