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368 pages, Paperback
First published March 27, 2018
“It’s no great accomplishment to get someone to believe a lie. It’s not that hard, really. Look at me: a doctor’s wife, working mom, good neighbor. You’ve already summed me up, haven’t you? You’re already filling in the blanks...But whatever you’re writing there, it’s not the truth.”





You probably think I care a lot about what my friends think. I don’t. None of this charade is for them. It’s no great accomplishment to get someone to believe a lie. It’s not that hard, really. Look at me: doctor’s wife, working mom, good neighbor. You’ve already summed me up, haven’t you? You’re already filling in the blanks. But whatever you’re writing there, it’s not the truth. And that’s fine by me. It’s easier, knowing you don’t know me at all. Because as long as you believe that what you see is what you get, I get to stay this way. Poised. Devoted. Alive.
The missing, the hidden, the murdered, and the otherwise lost never get to tell their sides of the story. It’s the last and sometimes cruelest injustice. Because often the people left behind to shape the narrative have an agenda that doesn’t necessarily revolve around the truth. It’s not always out of malice. There’s self-preservation to consider. One’s image, state of mind, well-being. The human desire to attempt to make sense of a world with no real order to it, to demand to know why when there is no reason—or at least no good one. The explanations given, the conclusions drawn, might be willfully dishonest, they may be obliviously ignorant, or they could be part of the truth—but rarely are they the whole story. Still, by default, those versions are the only ones that will ever be told.
"The world will drag you down if you let it. Sometimes you have to be happy in the little bubble you create for yourself."