Glory & Grace
E-book
9,99 €
Nouveauté
Demon Slayer
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- FormatePub
- ISBN8230995463
- EAN9798230995463
- Date de parution19/08/2025
- Protection num.pas de protection
- Infos supplémentairesepub
- ÉditeurIndependently Published
Résumé
I never fit into my own life. On the surface, everything was perfect-maybe even enviable. A multi-million-dollar mansion in Brighton Hills, the private school with ivy-covered walls, the designer clothes, and the sleek black Audi that myfather gave me on my sixteenth birthday. I had everything a girl couldask for. But if someone peeled back the layers, they'd find the truth: mylife was like glass-polished on the outside, empty on the inside, and onehard hit away from shattering.
My father, Dr. James Morgan, was one of the most brilliant neurosur-geons in the world. That wasn't an exaggeration. People flew in fromevery continent to be treated by him. He had saved thousands of lives-but I sometimes wondered if he even saw mine. Most nights, his side ofthe house was dark except for the dim glow of his office lamp. The onlysigns of life were the low hum of classical music and the occasional creakof his chair when he shifted between research papers.
I used to sit outside his door when I was little, cross-legged on the marblefloor, waiting for him to come out. Sometimes he did. Most of the time, I just fell asleep there, the cold seeping through my pajamas, until thehousekeeper woke me up and sent me to bed.
My father, Dr. James Morgan, was one of the most brilliant neurosur-geons in the world. That wasn't an exaggeration. People flew in fromevery continent to be treated by him. He had saved thousands of lives-but I sometimes wondered if he even saw mine. Most nights, his side ofthe house was dark except for the dim glow of his office lamp. The onlysigns of life were the low hum of classical music and the occasional creakof his chair when he shifted between research papers.
I used to sit outside his door when I was little, cross-legged on the marblefloor, waiting for him to come out. Sometimes he did. Most of the time, I just fell asleep there, the cold seeping through my pajamas, until thehousekeeper woke me up and sent me to bed.
I never fit into my own life. On the surface, everything was perfect-maybe even enviable. A multi-million-dollar mansion in Brighton Hills, the private school with ivy-covered walls, the designer clothes, and the sleek black Audi that myfather gave me on my sixteenth birthday. I had everything a girl couldask for. But if someone peeled back the layers, they'd find the truth: mylife was like glass-polished on the outside, empty on the inside, and onehard hit away from shattering.
My father, Dr. James Morgan, was one of the most brilliant neurosur-geons in the world. That wasn't an exaggeration. People flew in fromevery continent to be treated by him. He had saved thousands of lives-but I sometimes wondered if he even saw mine. Most nights, his side ofthe house was dark except for the dim glow of his office lamp. The onlysigns of life were the low hum of classical music and the occasional creakof his chair when he shifted between research papers.
I used to sit outside his door when I was little, cross-legged on the marblefloor, waiting for him to come out. Sometimes he did. Most of the time, I just fell asleep there, the cold seeping through my pajamas, until thehousekeeper woke me up and sent me to bed.
My father, Dr. James Morgan, was one of the most brilliant neurosur-geons in the world. That wasn't an exaggeration. People flew in fromevery continent to be treated by him. He had saved thousands of lives-but I sometimes wondered if he even saw mine. Most nights, his side ofthe house was dark except for the dim glow of his office lamp. The onlysigns of life were the low hum of classical music and the occasional creakof his chair when he shifted between research papers.
I used to sit outside his door when I was little, cross-legged on the marblefloor, waiting for him to come out. Sometimes he did. Most of the time, I just fell asleep there, the cold seeping through my pajamas, until thehousekeeper woke me up and sent me to bed.
A propos de Adara Blessing