What do you think?
Rate this book


336 pages, Paperback
First published September 4, 2018
Now would be the proper time to speak. But I’m pretty sure that my mouth has been blown apart and then reattached backward and inside out, a couple of miles north of my vocal cords.
I can feel all the loose ends in my life tangling around my ankles like seaweed, threatening to pull me under.
Memories are like land mines that I step on everywhere I turn.At the same time, this book pushed so many of my buttons. I don’t expect other readers to feel the same way as I do about the niggles I had because hopefully your experiences have been different than mine, but I try to write authentic reviews and I can’t do that if I gloss over the not so shiny things in life.
Longing, fiercer and more powerful than ever, is a hand on my back, propelling me toward him.Had I bypassed this book I would have avoided sentences like that one and been relieved of some annoyance and nausea, but I also would have missed out on some stellar ‘I have to highlight this!’ writing. I wish that the lovey dovey parts had been replaced by friendship and banter between Grace and boy wonder but I expect most readers will love the romantic interludes. What really annoyed me was that it seemed that no matter what Grace was facing everything eventually boiled down to whether boy wonder still liked her or not.
“Out of every 1,000 rapes, 994 perpetrators will walk free.I don’t quote this to discourage anyone from reporting sexual assault. I’ve personally reported some sexual assaults but not others so I can see the benefits and pitfalls of both options. I only want to say that if you have experienced sexual assault it’s your choice whether you report or not. Reporting is not the only path to healing.
310 are reported to police.
57 reports lead to arrest.
11 cases get referred to prosecutors.
7 cases will lead to a felony conviction.
6 rapists will be incarcerated.”
I knew that coming here would unearth all sorts of nasty memories. And just standing here, I’m hit with a multilayered emotion that’s heartache and shame and panic, my past so close I can sense it brushing against the fine hairs on the back of my neck.
There’s no way he had time to think about it, no way his reply is anything but a canned response. I’m not looking for canned. I need honesty. Or else, a well-crafted lie. Anything that shows me he cares, at least a little.
I’ve waited so long for an apology, and now that I have one, I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. Does it matter to me? Yes. Does it make everything alright? Not really.
I nod, even though I know that I won’t. I’ve been dealing with Dad’s death for nearly two years. The therapist thing? I’ve done it. I took all my loss and all my guilt and all my sadness, and I handed it to my therapist in a little box. We opened it together and examined everything inside. The five stages of grief? I’ve gone through them. I denied and blamed and cried and screamed and punched pillows. This isn’t to say that I’ve gotten over Dad’s death. You don’t ever get over losing someone you love. Grief isn’t something you can hurdle. It’s something you carry on your back. You just find a way to cart it around without letting the weight of it fold you in half. You learn to live with it, because you don’t have a choice.

"It's just a tiny bottle bobbing across the ocean that separates us. Not large enough to carry an important message, but just the right size to show that she cares."
"Know who else is taking things one day at a time? Everyone. Because that's how time works."
“Suddenly I’m Faith, walking fearlessly into the unknown. I’m Eleanor, ready to speak the truth without filter. I’m Janna, writing my own story. I’m every girl, every woman, every female who has ever walked this planet in fear. I’m me, prepared to face the truth.”