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Back Stolen Soulmate Save as PDF
Chapters (66)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Keep Reading
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-One
  25. Twenty-Two
  26. Twenty-Three
  27. Twenty-Four
  28. Twenty-Five
  29. Twenty-Six
  30. Twenty-Seven
  31. Twenty-Eight
  32. Twenty-Nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-One
  35. Thirty-Two
  36. Thirty-Three
  37. Thirty-Four
  38. Thirty-Five
  39. Thirty-Six
  40. Thirty-Seven
  41. Thirty-Eight
  42. Thirty-Nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-One
  45. Forty-Two
  46. Forty-Three
  47. Forty-Four
  48. Forty-Five
  49. Forty-Six
  50. Forty-Seven
  51. Forty-Eight
  52. Forty-Nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty-One
  55. Fifty-Two
  56. Fifty-Three
  57. Fifty-Four
  58. Fifty-Five
  59. Fifty-Six
  60. Fifty-Seven
  61. Fifty-Eight
  62. Fifty-Nine
  63. Sneak Peek
  64. Find Me
  65. Books by Mary Catherine Gebhard
  66. Acknowledgments

“Are you living with dignity, Storybook?

“Yes,” I lied.

He took a deep, rocky breath. “I’m afraid you’ve learned nothing I’ve taught you.”

I countered, “You always taught me I could be on my knees, could have a plate of food thrown at my chest. They could call me names, forget my name, and just treat me like dirt, but I would still be worthy of respect.”

He just stared at my dress. “But you have to believe that.”

A tinkling of bells chimed through the hallway. They always reminded me of Christmas, but down here they were ominous portents.

“I didn’t teach you to hide. This won’t end well for you.” Uncle disappeared in the tinkling of the bells.

I rubbed my chest. Grayson Crowne had kicked over my bucket more times than I could count. Abigail had thrown her tea at me. Gemma and Tansy probably didn’t even know I existed.

All that time I thought I’d known who I was. Story.

Sure, I wasn’t normally this person, not really. Timid. Shy. Growing up, my mother used to say I was a megaphone because I was loud, and everyone had to know what I was feeling.

I became this person to survive.

First, with Mom. Then, when I moved to Crowne Hall. Piece by piece I hid parts of myself. Hide my body. Hide my soul. Hide. Because they can’t take what they can’t find.

I don’t know how Uncle does it, stays himself while others throw food on him.

Maybe I’ve been hiding so long I’m starting to disappear.

I haven’t been living with dignity. I’ve been living with its dark twin, shame. Because even though I’ve got a cigarette stain on my shirt from how little Grayson sees in me, I know if im not careful, it will burn through to my heart.

Eight

STORY

Crowne Hall was the last remaining bastion of old Crowne Point. Like the family itself, it stood out amid the blue and white beachy shops and houses of the town. Once upon a time, the town shops had been black like the Hall, but the new wealthy felt that was a bit too gothic for a New York beach town.

Down in the servants’ quarters, they hadn’t bothered updating it like the rest of the house. Hundreds of maids, valets, and chauffeurs were crammed into a small, dank room, the only light from a dusty chandelier. They played cards or did shots on centuries-old wood tables. Anything else while they waited to be called. This was what the Swan Swell party had always meant to me.

“New game.” A servant with red hair, Andrew, slammed his hands on a table. “Every time a Crowne calls us up for something they could’ve easily solved themselves, do a shot.”

“I don’t feel like getting alcohol poisoning tonight, so…”