American library books ยป Other ยป Not My Mother by Miranda Smith (lightweight ebook reader .txt) ๐Ÿ“•

Read book online ยซNot My Mother by Miranda Smith (lightweight ebook reader .txt) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Miranda Smith



1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ... 77
Go to page:

Not My Mother

A completely gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist

Miranda Smith

Books by Miranda Smith

Not My Mother

The One Before

What I Know

Some Days Are Dark

Available in audio

The One Before (Available in the UK and the US)

What I Know (Available in the UK and the US)

Some Days Are Dark (Available in the UK and the US)

Contents

Prologue

1. Marion

Now

2. Marion

Now

3. Eileen

Then

4. Marion

Now

5. Marion

Now

6. Eileen

Then

7. Marion

Now

8. Marion

Now

9. Marion

Now

10. Eileen

Then

11. Marion

Now

12. Marion

Now

13. Marion

Now

14. Eileen

Then

15. Marion

Now

16. Marion

Now

17. Marion

Now

18. Marion

Now

19. Marion

Now

20. Eileen

Then

21. Marion

Now

22. Marion

Now

23. Marion

Now

24. Marion

Now

25. Marion

Now

26. Marion

Now

27. Eileen

Then

28. Marion

Now

29. Marion

Now

30. Marion

Now

31. Marion

Now

32. Eileen

Then

33. Marion

Now

34. Eileen

Then

35. Marion

Now

36. Eileen

Then

37. Marion

Now

38. Marion

Now

39. Eileen

Then

40. Marion

Now

41. Marion

Now

42. Marion

Now

43. Marion

Now

44. Amelia

Then

45. Marion

Now

46. Amelia

Then

47. Marion

Now

48. Amelia

Now

49. Marion

Now

50. Marion

Now

51. Marion

Now

52. Amelia

Now

Epilogue

What I Know

Hear More from Miranda

Books by Miranda Smith

A Letter from Miranda

The One Before

Some Days Are Dark

Acknowledgements

For Lucy

PrologueAmelia

Then

Ameliaโ€™s senses returned. First, the feeling of grainy cement beneath her fingers. A warm breeze blew over her, carrying with it the scent of chlorine and iron and decay. Her vision came into focus, unlocking a hauntingly vivid image. The fruit from the charcuterie board had wilted in the heat, buzzy flies drinking up the juices. The sun was almost gone now. She stood, shakily, trying to find balance. Thatโ€™s when she saw the blood. Slippery stripes stained the concrete surrounding their backyard pool. Her hands were sticky with it. At her feet, lay her husband. His face was still. His eyes were closed. A stream of blood oozed from his left ear.

Even that terrifying image wasnโ€™t the scariest part. What truly terrified her was the silence. No footsteps, no whispers. Worst of all, no crying. She ran inside the house, up the stairs. Horrified, she tore through the nursery, each detail searing itself into her brain. The open window. The empty crib. She ran outside a second time and was greeted again by that stony silence.

She knew it then, could feel it in her bones. Her baby was missing.

Baby Caroline was gone.

1 MarionNow

I wish Ava had taken a longer nap. I wish Iโ€™d started the party at two, instead of noon. I should have ordered cupcakes instead of a specialty-made, two-tiered sugar monstrosity that Iโ€™ll be responsible for dissecting into a dozen pieces.

My first year of motherhood has taught me this: Iโ€™m always second-guessing myself.

And itโ€™s not like I have a partner to tell me otherwise, contradict my own insecurities. I have no husband. No boyfriend. Itโ€™s just Ava and me. Iโ€™m responsible for every doctorโ€™s visit, every sleepless night, every celebration. Of course, I chose this path. But sometimes, in moments like this, when every shortcoming seems on full display, I really feel it. That heavy responsibility.

Then Ava smiles, a reminder parenthood is worth it. Even the hard parts, the lonely parts. Her happiness sends out a silent signal that Iโ€™m enough.

If Iโ€™m being honest, Iโ€™m not as alone as I may feel. I look around the room, cataloging each person who has come to celebrate Avaโ€™s first birthday. Some people I felt I had to invite for the sake of the business, like Holly Dale, the hotel manager across the street. The words she uttered when she first learned I was pregnant stay with me: A baby is a lot to take on by yourself. She irks me, but I have to remain friendly with her because she always provides tourists with coupons for The Shack. There are a few mothers from Mommy and Me I know on a first name basis; I invited them so Ava isnโ€™t the only baby at her party.

And then there are the people whoโ€™ve really helped Ava and me during this first year. Carmen, my best friend, her long black hair falling over one shoulder. Over by the pinball machines, I spot her two kids: Preston and Penny. Preston is manically punching the ball grip on the machine, despite nothing happening. Penny has taken a roll of streamers and is wrapping them around her brotherโ€™s ankles.

โ€œCut it out, you animals,โ€ Carmen shouts when she spots them.

โ€œItโ€™s a party,โ€ says Michael, her husband, standing by her side. โ€œLet them have fun.โ€

My business partner, Des, walks into the dining hall carrying a pan of handmade cheese pizza. The older kids take their seats at the decorated table.

โ€œTime to eat,โ€ Des says, in her husky voice. โ€œIf you want toppings, I have another one coming.โ€

None of the kids care. I know from years of working here most kids only want cheese and balk at anything else.

Des is also my honorary aunt, of sortsโ€”Iโ€™ve known her as long as Iโ€™ve known anyone, it seems. Sheโ€™s owned The Shack for years, inviting Mom to step in as co-owner some years back. After graduating college, I joined them, taking over the management of the place. This little eatery has proven to be a stable support system for all involved, favored by both locals and the tourist crowd visiting the nearby beaches.

North Bay is a small beach town by the Atlantic, and itโ€™s the only place Iโ€™ve ever called home. I love everything about it. The bronze sands, the blue skies. I love that the place only feels touristy during the months of July and August; the rest of the time, itโ€™s like this beautiful landscape is a secret, only to be enjoyed by our few thousand residents. We moved here when I was a toddler. I certainly donโ€™t remember living anywhere else, and once I was old enough to swim in the ocean, I knew Iโ€™d never want to leave.

Des catches sight of me holding Ava and shuffles over.

โ€œThereโ€™s the birthday princess,โ€ she says, her voice climbing a few octaves. The only time that happens is when sheโ€™s around my child. Normally, Des despises children, but Ava works some kind of magic on her. โ€œLet me hold her.โ€

โ€œShe looks adorable,โ€ Carmen says, walking over to join us. Michael is only a few steps behind. โ€œThis dress

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ... 77
Go to page:

Free e-book: ยซNot My Mother by Miranda Smith (lightweight ebook reader .txt) ๐Ÿ“•ยป   -   read online now on website american library books (americanlibrarybooks.com)

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment