Burma Girl

By Ruth Sims

The rich man had to have Her at all costs. His daughters hated Her because he loved Her more. From the time they were children the Burma Girl came between them and their cruel father. Capable of creating hatred, jealousy and resentment there was only one question left to ask. Would the Burma Girl destroy them all in the end?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Untreed Reads
• Release date: Jun 14, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452438405

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Burma Girl

By Ruth Sims

Copyright 2010 by  Ruth Sims and Untreed Reads Publishing

Cover Copyright 2010 by Dara England and Untreed Reads Publishing

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold, reproduced or transmitted by any means in any form or given away to other people without specific permission from the author and/or publisher. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to the living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Also by Ruth Sims and Untreed Reads Publishing

The Lawyer, The Ghost and The Cursed Chair

Mr. Newby's Revenge

http://www.untreedreads.com

The author would like to thank Gemologist Richard W. Hughes for his invaluable assistance in the writing of this work. Please visit Mr. Hughes' website at http://www.ruby-sapphire.com

BURMA GIRL

Ruth Sims

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin’ lazy at the sea, there’s a Burma girl…

From Mandalay by Rudyard Kipling

Sunlight struggled to get through the gray film that coated the small-paned bedroom windows of the run-down Victorian mansion in the Chicago suburb. The thick ivy that swarmed up the exterior of the house also partially obscured the light, giving the bedroom a twilight appearance even at noon.

Endurance Bowdoin carefully arranged the pillow behind her sister’s head. Her heart ached to see Chastity, always so fair and plump, now as frail as a whisper, fading away like an old photograph. That’s what we always were, Durie thought sadly. Photographs of living people. Never the real thing. Father never let us be real.

Chastity spoke without opening her eyes. Durie? Chastity’s voice was as frail as her