She had thirty dollars to her name, and she would not break a ten for a stranger in the rain.
Sydney Carter is thirty-two years old and holding on to three ten-dollar bills like they're the last solid thing in her life. On a wet night at a gas station, a man who says his name is Elijah pumps her gas without being asked and won't take anything for it. She pays him anyway — forty-five cents, dug out of the bottom of her purse — because she will not break a ten.
Hours later she watches the man she loved announce he's marrying somebody else. Then there is the sound of metal. Then there is a hospital room, and machines, and a family in a hallway.
And Sydney, somewhere else entirely, is made to sit down with her whole life and read it back.
Everything her grandmother Marida ever tried to tell her about grace — every argument Sydney won, every scripture she batted away, every year she spent believing she had to earn her way into being loved — comes back around and asks to be settled. Not by a preacher. By her.
WRITTEN is a novel about grace and works, about the debts we think we owe, and about a woman finding out that the book of her life had a name in it all along.