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Without Her: A Chronicle of Grief
Alternate cover edition of ISBN 9781571311962
A lucid memoir reckoning with grief and the search for understanding in the wake of a sister’s suicide.
Rebecca Spiegel is working as a teacher in New Orleans when she learns of her sister Emily’s death by suicide. Shocked, she flies back to Philadelphia. To family. To funeral preparations. To the service. Only after she leaves her parents’ house does the shock give way to grief.
In the years that follow, Spiegel embarks on a physical, mental, and emotional voyage. She visits Emily’s dorm, digs through her computer. She parses old journal entries and emails. She recalls Emily’s visit to New Orleans mere days before her death, wondering what signs she might have missed. In documenting the last traces of her sister’s life, Spiegel also confronts their parents’ failings, as well as her family’s history of depression, anxiety, OCD, addiction, and disordered eating. She faces her own regrets too. “I wish I had untangled myself from myself,” she writes of her sister’s final visit. “I wish I had been able to see that I was okay and she wasn’t.”
With each powerful detail resurfaced, Spiegel attempts to put into words what is incomprehensible. She plumbs the depths of her loss in an effort to understand her sister, to uncover logic where it is most elusive. What she finds instead is that there is no narrative on the other side of grief like this. There is no answer, no easy resolution—only those that leave, and those that keep living. Unflinchingly honest, visceral, and raw, this courageous elegy lays bare the hard realities of surviving the loss of a loved one.
A lucid memoir reckoning with grief and the search for understanding in the wake of a sister’s suicide.
Rebecca Spiegel is working as a teacher in New Orleans when she learns of her sister Emily’s death by suicide. Shocked, she flies back to Philadelphia. To family. To funeral preparations. To the service. Only after she leaves her parents’ house does the shock give way to grief.
In the years that follow, Spiegel embarks on a physical, mental, and emotional voyage. She visits Emily’s dorm, digs through her computer. She parses old journal entries and emails. She recalls Emily’s visit to New Orleans mere days before her death, wondering what signs she might have missed. In documenting the last traces of her sister’s life, Spiegel also confronts their parents’ failings, as well as her family’s history of depression, anxiety, OCD, addiction, and disordered eating. She faces her own regrets too. “I wish I had untangled myself from myself,” she writes of her sister’s final visit. “I wish I had been able to see that I was okay and she wasn’t.”
With each powerful detail resurfaced, Spiegel attempts to put into words what is incomprehensible. She plumbs the depths of her loss in an effort to understand her sister, to uncover logic where it is most elusive. What she finds instead is that there is no narrative on the other side of grief like this. There is no answer, no easy resolution—only those that leave, and those that keep living. Unflinchingly honest, visceral, and raw, this courageous elegy lays bare the hard realities of surviving the loss of a loved one.
256 pages, Paperback
Published September 10, 2024
10 people are currently reading
234 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews
December 17, 2024
A breathtakingly raw, vulnerable, and gripping memoir. Spiegel candidly details her unfiltered grief as she reckons with her sister’s suicide and its effects on her family, both in the immediate aftermath and from shared traumas it dredges up.
As a fellow CC alum who knew Emily through GROW and as an RA in Loomis, this book hit particularly hard. Spiegel impressively manages to capture the beautiful, indescribable complexity of Emily in the written word. Emily was the person who encouraged me to apply to be a Writing Center tutor, convincing me “you don’t have anything to lose… you can always say no” in a way that only Emily could. The familiar mentions of the Writing Center animal crackers, Midnight Breakfast, and other campus landmarks hit me with heavy dose of nostalgia and longing.
For being a universal human experience, grief can feel incredibly isolating in its throes. Spiegel does as good a job of anyone that I’ve read capturing these complex emotions with unflinching honesty and finding a way to explain them. Spiegel gives life to Emily and honors throughout the book, describing her with sisterly love and care while also not shying away from her complex, and at times contradictory, emotions. In addressing these raw emotions head on, it feels as if she moves toward a deeper understanding and love.
The memoir is beautifully written, with flowing prose and emotionally resonant lines. It is deeply intimate and profoundly courageous, but also relatable and compelling. I couldn’t put it down and finished in two days, and am still reeling.
As a fellow CC alum who knew Emily through GROW and as an RA in Loomis, this book hit particularly hard. Spiegel impressively manages to capture the beautiful, indescribable complexity of Emily in the written word. Emily was the person who encouraged me to apply to be a Writing Center tutor, convincing me “you don’t have anything to lose… you can always say no” in a way that only Emily could. The familiar mentions of the Writing Center animal crackers, Midnight Breakfast, and other campus landmarks hit me with heavy dose of nostalgia and longing.
For being a universal human experience, grief can feel incredibly isolating in its throes. Spiegel does as good a job of anyone that I’ve read capturing these complex emotions with unflinching honesty and finding a way to explain them. Spiegel gives life to Emily and honors throughout the book, describing her with sisterly love and care while also not shying away from her complex, and at times contradictory, emotions. In addressing these raw emotions head on, it feels as if she moves toward a deeper understanding and love.
The memoir is beautifully written, with flowing prose and emotionally resonant lines. It is deeply intimate and profoundly courageous, but also relatable and compelling. I couldn’t put it down and finished in two days, and am still reeling.
August 30, 2024
Writing about such a personal and traumatic experience is brave to begin with, but the honesty and raw emotion expressed in this memoir bring it to another plane. Grief contains such a wide variety of swirling emotions within it and can shift its projection from internal to external at the drop of a hat; it's incredibly authentic how Spiegel shows that on the page and does not shy away from including the darker emotions like shame, hurt, and blame. The storytelling itself uses detail in such a way that you truly feel like a fly on the wall watching events unfold. The texture and color of a carpet, the feel of grooved cinderblock walls under your hand- details like these take you to the moment and also track with those odd details anyone who has ever felt grief often remember. It's very well-written and beautifully difficult to read, as anything so honest about the human experience should be.
December 17, 2024
Such a powerful book. I read it non-stop for five days, unable to put it down. Spiegel’s ability to put into words the intensity of loving someone with such potent mental health challenges gave me companionship in my own similar journey. It was everything—sisterhood, painful love, facing grief, acknowledging the depth of self that another can touch… and how it shows up after someone has passed on. The pure honest reflection of how life is about those small moments, and so much more than that too.
There was a part in the book where Spiegel talks about her relationship with her sister, and how it was like a football game she was watching. The insightfulness of her words, and the intricate way she described this delicate balance of handling a loved one who is really struggling just hit me hard. It actually helped me feel not so alone in my own journey and feel a little compassion for when I’ve clearly “fumbled the ball”.
I can’t express enough how healing it is to read this book if you are going through something intense, unpredictable, and devastating with someone you love.
There was a part in the book where Spiegel talks about her relationship with her sister, and how it was like a football game she was watching. The insightfulness of her words, and the intricate way she described this delicate balance of handling a loved one who is really struggling just hit me hard. It actually helped me feel not so alone in my own journey and feel a little compassion for when I’ve clearly “fumbled the ball”.
I can’t express enough how healing it is to read this book if you are going through something intense, unpredictable, and devastating with someone you love.
June 11, 2025
stunning and lyrical and painful and warm and human. I will sit with this one for a long time.
December 31, 2024
Touching, vulnerable, transfixing. From a writing perspective, the fluidity of the time jumps is seamless. There are so many powerful paragraphs and prominent philosophical questions that Becca unearths and explores at the forefront. She lets the reader in--on her life, on her mind, on her sister, on her family. I'm honored to know this writer and impressed (and unsurprised) by the study-worthy choices she made writing this book.
March 24, 2025
In this heartbreaking narrative, the author pulls us into the chaotic swirl of emotions caused by her sister Emily's suicide. Spiegel's writing is fluid and absorbing, with a keen skill for descriptive detail bringing events to life. The story meanders, at times becoming a bit confusing, but in some ways, this is appropriate: Our lives are linear, yet memory is not. We move back to past moments, then bob and drift back and forth from one memory to another: each memory touching on a whole array of others. Elements of her life and of her death are slowly revealed as we are shown glimpses into dynamics of family, friends, school, mental health issues, and the crushing pain of grief.
December 27, 2024
I read this book during a transformative time in my life. I connected with the themes of grief and loss. The words felt heavy and real and honest. But the thing that I really found myself drawn to was the searching for answers. It's so true. We are all searching for answers, and sometimes we never get them. Or we don't get the ones we think we want. In this book, Rebecca walks the line so beautifully between searching for answers, accepting the ones never gotten and learning to move on from the ones that hurt. It's a beautiful book. Everyone should read it!
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June 12, 2025Heartbreaking and beautiful, I highly recommend Rebecca Spiegel's memoir (category #16), Without Her
August 24, 2025
Review by Stephen Harrison
Rebecca Spiegel's debut memoir Without Her is subtitled "A Chronicle of Grief and Love," and you feel both in impressive measure. Throughout the book, Spiegel pieces together the events leading up to and following her sister Emily’s decision to take her own life. Grief and love are vulnerable fields to till when someone is disclosing to an audience. However two perhaps even more powerful and more vulnerable themes run through Spiegel's work: regret and blame.
Unspoken emotions can weigh the heaviest when working through a tragedy because they aren’t the emotions that we’re supposed to feel: inconsolable sadness, heartwarming memories of the person who’s been lost, an appeal to the senselessness of it all. These are the societally prescribed ways that we should talk about our lost loved ones. What makes Spiegel's narrative unique is how she comes to terms with the emotions that have no useful manual for traversing this kind of loss: How could Emily do this to herself? What if I had done something differently? What if I’d done something differently my whole life? What if I had something to do with Emily’s death? How can I ever be at peace if I never know the answers to these questions?
Spiegel's courage to open up to her readers and bring them along in her journey makes for both a compelling read and an impressive examination of the kind of difficult questions that need to be confronted to heal.
Written with extensive anecdotal recollections from family and friends of Emily and Rebecca alike, the ultimate destination is known from the beginning. But the procession of events leading up to Emily’s death and the devastating aftereffects are like the grieving process itself; it doesn’t follow the kind of tidy linear narrative we oftentimes take comfort in. Spiegel speaks to this directly: “I was once taught that in Eastern writing it is common for stories to move in spirals while western academics like straight, narrow lines. I can admit that there is a refuge in the tragic; a freedom from the expectation of a clean, continuous narrative” (165). It is in this refuge that family dynamics, pivotal moments, and pure coincidences are sifted through and made sense of without the need to connect the dots so perfectly.
We get to know Emily bit by bit as the story is read both through anecdotes and supplementary materials. Emily was an artist. Rebecca and Emily were very close. Emily had bipolar disorder. Scanned diary entries, images of Emily’s artwork, and text logs between Rebecca and Emily bring both the person and the relationship into focus. Including these materials makes the devastation feel even closer because we get to know Emily as more than just a collection of quotes and stories from other people’s memories. The memories come directly from Emily herself. This also introduces the reader to some of the most pressing questions that a grief stricken mind can only approach carefully: Is it right to be angry at Emily? Is it fair to say Emily chose to kill herself when she was struggling with bipolar disorder? What tiny event or conversation could have gone differently and changed the outcome? Are other people implicated in her death? Am I implicated in her death?
Addressing her late sister, Spiegel writes, “I drank to your departure because your depressed visit had been so draining. Four days later, you were dead” (136). Such a revelation is a truth that feels like it sucks all the air out of the room. It addresses the reality that Emily did feel like a burden, and sometimes it was a relief when she was gone, even before she was gone. It is an admission that is sad and guilty and encapsulates fully the regret and blame, but it is one of the taboos about death and suicide that needs to be broken so Rebecca can truly heal.
Spiegel's memoir will feel familiar to anyone who has worked through grief but it is her willingness to allow us to accompany her through the most difficult questions—the questions and thoughts we’re not supposed to have after a tragedy like suicide—that will keep you glued to the page as her process unfolds. There is a comfort in the universal question that can never be answered but you cannot avoid: “What Emily was thinking, I will never know” (243).
Without Her is a process of reconciliation to the fact that the objective truth will never be known. It succeeds in making you feel less alone if you also carry that uncertainty with you, and convinces you that you can continue moving forward in spite of that weight.
Rebecca Spiegel's debut memoir Without Her is subtitled "A Chronicle of Grief and Love," and you feel both in impressive measure. Throughout the book, Spiegel pieces together the events leading up to and following her sister Emily’s decision to take her own life. Grief and love are vulnerable fields to till when someone is disclosing to an audience. However two perhaps even more powerful and more vulnerable themes run through Spiegel's work: regret and blame.
Unspoken emotions can weigh the heaviest when working through a tragedy because they aren’t the emotions that we’re supposed to feel: inconsolable sadness, heartwarming memories of the person who’s been lost, an appeal to the senselessness of it all. These are the societally prescribed ways that we should talk about our lost loved ones. What makes Spiegel's narrative unique is how she comes to terms with the emotions that have no useful manual for traversing this kind of loss: How could Emily do this to herself? What if I had done something differently? What if I’d done something differently my whole life? What if I had something to do with Emily’s death? How can I ever be at peace if I never know the answers to these questions?
Spiegel's courage to open up to her readers and bring them along in her journey makes for both a compelling read and an impressive examination of the kind of difficult questions that need to be confronted to heal.
Written with extensive anecdotal recollections from family and friends of Emily and Rebecca alike, the ultimate destination is known from the beginning. But the procession of events leading up to Emily’s death and the devastating aftereffects are like the grieving process itself; it doesn’t follow the kind of tidy linear narrative we oftentimes take comfort in. Spiegel speaks to this directly: “I was once taught that in Eastern writing it is common for stories to move in spirals while western academics like straight, narrow lines. I can admit that there is a refuge in the tragic; a freedom from the expectation of a clean, continuous narrative” (165). It is in this refuge that family dynamics, pivotal moments, and pure coincidences are sifted through and made sense of without the need to connect the dots so perfectly.
We get to know Emily bit by bit as the story is read both through anecdotes and supplementary materials. Emily was an artist. Rebecca and Emily were very close. Emily had bipolar disorder. Scanned diary entries, images of Emily’s artwork, and text logs between Rebecca and Emily bring both the person and the relationship into focus. Including these materials makes the devastation feel even closer because we get to know Emily as more than just a collection of quotes and stories from other people’s memories. The memories come directly from Emily herself. This also introduces the reader to some of the most pressing questions that a grief stricken mind can only approach carefully: Is it right to be angry at Emily? Is it fair to say Emily chose to kill herself when she was struggling with bipolar disorder? What tiny event or conversation could have gone differently and changed the outcome? Are other people implicated in her death? Am I implicated in her death?
Addressing her late sister, Spiegel writes, “I drank to your departure because your depressed visit had been so draining. Four days later, you were dead” (136). Such a revelation is a truth that feels like it sucks all the air out of the room. It addresses the reality that Emily did feel like a burden, and sometimes it was a relief when she was gone, even before she was gone. It is an admission that is sad and guilty and encapsulates fully the regret and blame, but it is one of the taboos about death and suicide that needs to be broken so Rebecca can truly heal.
Spiegel's memoir will feel familiar to anyone who has worked through grief but it is her willingness to allow us to accompany her through the most difficult questions—the questions and thoughts we’re not supposed to have after a tragedy like suicide—that will keep you glued to the page as her process unfolds. There is a comfort in the universal question that can never be answered but you cannot avoid: “What Emily was thinking, I will never know” (243).
Without Her is a process of reconciliation to the fact that the objective truth will never be known. It succeeds in making you feel less alone if you also carry that uncertainty with you, and convinces you that you can continue moving forward in spite of that weight.
September 24, 2024
There are a few books that move me emotionally to the point where I don't want them to end. I would choose to simply turn the pages back to one and start all over again. I am so engrossed with the voice, the people, and the sentimentality that it makes me sad when it all suddenly stops. Without Her depicts grief and love without the rose-tinted glasses one might put on years after the fact. The pain, the frustrations, the what-ifs, and the regrets are all intimately felt here.
But beyond that, it's just a well-written book. I was struck both by how emotional I was getting and how much in awe I was at the creative decisions made by the author. I don't want to give anything away, because I think the journey the author shares with you brings you into the experience in a way I haven't felt before. But it should be commended that the leaps in chronology placed me in a mindset where certain acts felt inevitable. I felt terrified of what was to come even though I already knew how this story ended.
Thank you for sharing this story with us, Rebecca Spiegel.
But beyond that, it's just a well-written book. I was struck both by how emotional I was getting and how much in awe I was at the creative decisions made by the author. I don't want to give anything away, because I think the journey the author shares with you brings you into the experience in a way I haven't felt before. But it should be commended that the leaps in chronology placed me in a mindset where certain acts felt inevitable. I felt terrified of what was to come even though I already knew how this story ended.
Thank you for sharing this story with us, Rebecca Spiegel.
October 13, 2024
READ THIS BOOK! Rebecca Spiegel's memoir is a profound and beautifully written exploration of grief, love, and family dynamics in the face of overwhelming trauma. Although the subject matter -- the suicide of Ms. Spiegel's sister -- is difficult, the book is far from depressing. It is an intimate yet entirely relatable (perhaps universal) story of moving through adversity and finally finding peace and acceptance through the retrieval and processing of memories. Spiegel recounts in intimate, gorgeous and vivid detail her physical and emotional state as she deals with the news and aftermath of her sister's death and the ensuing memories of her sister and her life. Like all exception memoirs I have read, I was completely engrossed in the story, and in the end (and in a sign of a truly exceptional piece of literature), I found myself reflecting on my own life, family and relationships and thinking about the meaning of my memories.
May 1, 2024
Without Her is a well-written memoir of the narrator's sister, Emily's, suicide and its effects on others. Becca's honesty about her inability to move beyond the death is presented in an appealing voice, as she breaks up with her boyfriend, shifts her studies, attempts to function in her role as classroom teacher, and deals with difficult parental relationships. Skillfully written and compelling, although too long, the book courageously relates the author's struggles, as well as those of her family, to find a way to confront the inevitable grief and guilt. The familial conflict she's caught up in and the inadequacy that those tangent to such a tragedy feel are mapped out with honesty and not a whiff of self-indulgence.
August 29, 2024
I highly recommend ‘Without Her’ memoir!! It is a great exploration of friendship, loss, and the enduring impact of mental illness. The narrative is deeply introspective, delving into the complexities of coping with the death of a lifelong friend. Spiegel beautifully portrays the protagonist’s journey through grief, capturing the overwhelming sense of loss and the struggle to understand a life cut short by mental illness. The memoirs strength lies in its honest depiction of the grieving process, offering readers a nuanced perspective on how to navigate the emotional terrain of mourning. ‘Without Her’ is a compelling read for anyone interested in the intersection of friendship, family, mental health, and the ways we cope with profound loss.
September 6, 2024
"Without Her" by Rebecca Spiegel is a book that has absolutely changed my life. I will forever hold with me this story that is one of the (if not THE) best chronicle of the complexity of mental health, relationships between family, friends, and lovers, and our understanding of ourselves. Spiegel's writing delicately dances between prose and poetry, constantly evoking emotions from her reader whether they want to feel them or not. The not-so-linear delivery of events makes for a compelling story that keeps you reading, both because you want Becca as the narrator to find resolution (though you learn from her early will never truly be possible) and because peeling back each layer of Becca teaches you more about being human.
Read this book.
Read this book.
September 4, 2024
The way the author shares her raw grief with the reader without holding anything back is both inspiring and a gut punch. She takes you through the range of grief without sparing you from the shame, the anger, the wanting to leave this world yourself once the person you loved the most is gone. She takes you through the sadness and loneliness and lashing out at people who you love. The fear of losing other people you love, the clinging to every possible memory… it’s just raw. That’s the best word to describe it. I’m honored to have been taken on this journey with the author and thank her for sharing her most deep and vulnerable thoughts. 🤍
February 9, 2025
Reverently, I put this book down. It is magnificent—a vivid, tangible journey through loss, love, sisterhood, mental illness, a search for answers and a trip around the world. Spiegel is self-reflective without being self-absorbed (unlike Sloane Crosley, whose ‘Grief is for People’ makes me more mad the more I think about it). ‘Without Her’ is a book everyone should read. I will pick it up again and again.
October 6, 2024
Not only is this one of the most beautifully written books I have read in years, the author’s vulnerability makes this extremely raw and beautiful at the same time. I read this from cover to cover without moving as it was so well written and evoked every emotion within me.
November 4, 2024
This is a beautiful and well written book. It’s raw, real, and will leave you thanking Becca for enlightening us of what it feels like to go through this experience, as gut wrenching as it is. I whole heartedly encourage everyone to read this book.
December 29, 2024
I read it in one day. As someone with sisters, it was so hard to get through and I struggled to read it at times but I also couldn’t put it down. The writing was beautiful. It had vulnerability that was hard to witness and was incredibly touching.
February 22, 2024
Deeply personal memoir of losing a sibling to mental illness and suicide
September 18, 2024
A defficult subject yet written beautifully with compassion and an abundance of love.
September 28, 2024
I lost my brother to suicide 2 months ago. Rebecca’s writing was beautiful, raw and so real. I appreciate her insight and sharing of her journey as I start mine.
October 19, 2024
Well done Becca
October 26, 2024
Raw, honest, and vulnerable, Becca shares her and her family’s experience before and after a traumatic event. Without Her is well written and cleverly arranged. I learned a lot and would recommend.
December 17, 2024
Heartbreaking, gorgeous. Loved every page
August 1, 2025
Tough read; the memoir of a woman whose sister kills herself.
September 15, 2024
Wonderful storytelling from a talented writer. With detailed honesty, the writer shares the pain of grief and coming to terms with that we may not fully understand.
January 9, 2025
This was an excellent book on the topic of the suicide of a loved one. No one ever wants to talk about this, but so many of us know someone who has chosen this path. Rebecca captures the background of her sister’s mental health, the family dynamics, the event, and the consequences of a loved one’s suicide with remarkable depth.
I’ve read many books searching for answers to why my husband took his life. This book resonated with me on a deeply personal level. Rebecca’s writing brought me comfort, helping me understand that my unexplainable emotions were shared by others. Thank you, Rebecca, for this wonderful book.
November 18, 2024
Incredibly honest and brave writing. There were many times I was torn between whether I needed to put the book down or keep reading.... (most often I chose to keep reading then couldn't put it down). One of my favorite things about reading this book is that I really felt like I personally knew both Rebecca and Emily.
March 11, 2025
So, this memoir is about Rebecca (the author) grieving the 2014 suicide of her younger sister Emily. I knew Emily at Colorado College. We were acquaintances from the mental health club, and once we shared a late-night conversation on a bench as she smoked a cigarette and shared her troubles. I'll never forget that conversation. And I can still remember what her voice sounded like. When she died, it created a darkness over the whole campus that never truly left. We didn't get over it, and every time she comes up, my fellow alums and I use a somber voice. It was even worse for the mental health community to lose one of our own to the conditions that eat at us on the daily.
Her death has always been a question for me. There were so many unknowns, ones I had no right to have the answers to: what was Emily's life story, who was her family, what were her troubles we didn't know about, how did she die? Not gossipy questions, but ones filled with sadness, emptiness, and unresolvedness. It's natural to want to know the circumstances surrounding a person's death, but sometimes we just can't know. Except now we can. Turns out Emily's older sister is a talented writer. When my classmate posted about this book on Instagram, I rushed to Amazon. I have never clicked "order" on a book so quickly, and because of my connection to the subject, it was a real page turner.
Rebecca captures so much about Emily and her own anguish very, very well. It's a very raw and complex portrayal of grief. You're not going to find an uplifting story, it's just real. She writes about failed career moves and relationships that took massive damage from the grieving process; the family's experience and reaction; and what Emily was like in life, including both good memories and unsettling things discovered about her after she was gone.
It's a devastating story for so many people involved, and also I feel so honored and privileged to be able to own this book and learn more about this horrific death that has stayed with me and many others. Having the book (which I will keep for the rest of my life) gives real concreteness to what was once just a sorrowful memory. It's not only helped to heal Rebecca (presumably) but so many others. A must-own for anyone who knew Emily.
Her death has always been a question for me. There were so many unknowns, ones I had no right to have the answers to: what was Emily's life story, who was her family, what were her troubles we didn't know about, how did she die? Not gossipy questions, but ones filled with sadness, emptiness, and unresolvedness. It's natural to want to know the circumstances surrounding a person's death, but sometimes we just can't know. Except now we can. Turns out Emily's older sister is a talented writer. When my classmate posted about this book on Instagram, I rushed to Amazon. I have never clicked "order" on a book so quickly, and because of my connection to the subject, it was a real page turner.
Rebecca captures so much about Emily and her own anguish very, very well. It's a very raw and complex portrayal of grief. You're not going to find an uplifting story, it's just real. She writes about failed career moves and relationships that took massive damage from the grieving process; the family's experience and reaction; and what Emily was like in life, including both good memories and unsettling things discovered about her after she was gone.
It's a devastating story for so many people involved, and also I feel so honored and privileged to be able to own this book and learn more about this horrific death that has stayed with me and many others. Having the book (which I will keep for the rest of my life) gives real concreteness to what was once just a sorrowful memory. It's not only helped to heal Rebecca (presumably) but so many others. A must-own for anyone who knew Emily.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews