Tobin is a blacksmith in a small, isolated valley that survives by habit, silence, and distance from old places best left untouched. He lives a quiet life with his wife, Mara, until subtle changes begin to unsettle the world around them—changes no one wants to name.
As the valley withdraws and Mara grows inexplicably ill, Tobin is forced to confront a truth the elders have long some knowledge cannot be shared, some burdens cannot be set down, and some people are shaped to carry what others cannot endure.
The Sin-Eater is a quiet, mythic novel about guilt, inheritance, and the terrible cost of protection. It is not a story of forbidden knowledge, but of necessary exile; not about discovering truth, but about what it means to bear it alone.
Spare, atmospheric, and emotionally devastating, The Sin-Eater unfolds like a modern folktale—one in which salvation comes not through triumph or redemption, but through restraint.
This is a story about leaving so others may stay, and about the weight that remains when the world moves on.