Mirror Image Sandra Brown の小説・ストーリー

She’d sneak them back to the trunk in the morning. The book was old, with patterns engraved into the leather cover and there were burn marks around the edges, too. Like someone tried to burn the book. Gemma shook her head and tucked the brown leather book away in the spacious cavity. The ornate mirror was harder to handle because of its weight, and Gemma was more careful with it. But she wanted a closer look at it. Its frame looked like silver. Evan was correct. The mirror’s reflection was off. She could not see her own image in it. Gemma needed to concentrate and stare hard into the glass to make out anything.

The cold in the room was nothing. The cold between us was worse. My eyes wouldn’t close. Every time I tried, images rushed in, merciless and sharp, like shards of a broken mirror. Sandra on the balcony, breaking in a way I had never seen before, her composure splintering under the weight of betrayal and humiliation and exhaustion. Sandra in the garden, surrounded by beauty that meant nothing when she was trapped inside it. Sandra at the press conference, her voice steady even as the entire kingdom turned their mouths against her.

“Ten percent?” Sandra muttered under her breath, “Better than kneeling before that dog.” Spider glared but didn’t argue. He waved us off and barked orders at the staff to clean up the mess. We stumbled toward the restroom, our steps shaky. Inside, the harsh fluorescent lights made the smeared lipstick and tear tracks on my face all too real. Sandra pulled powder from her purse, trying to fix her makeup with trembling hands. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection. My mask dangled from my wrist, my golden hair spilling loose. My face looked pale, my eyes haunted.

Miranda said. I rolled my eyes. "You think you can just leave at anytime you wish because you know my brother?" She asked again, her eyes red with rage this time. "I had taken permission and Sandra had agreed to fill in for me," I finally said, slowly. "Who is Sandra?!" Miranda sneered. "Do you want to lose your job alongside Savannah?" Sandra walked slowly forwards, nodding. "No ma'am Miranda." "Good," Miranda shot. "Don't ever cover up for Savannah's misdeeds! Do you understand?"

The pain had gone as quickly as it came. Sandra leaned closer to Anna with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I have to do this." "What?" Anna muttered, her brows going upwards. “Wait,” Sandra said suddenly. “Something’s wrong.” “She’s panicking.” Mireille said quickly. “No…no, it’s not that,” Sandra murmured, frowning, her eyes on Anna, as if asking her to spoil the plan. She gently pressed her fingers to Anna’s lower abdomen, then froze. Her breath caught.