This summer is all about learning to be a perennial.
Ever since her little sister's untimely death, Callie has basically given up. The two were peas in a pod, and now she can't get through the days without getting stoned.
So when her father sends her to help her aunt fix up a run down home for the summer, Callie is less then thrilled. She wants to be left alone, to grieve in her own way. But what if a possibly paranormal return trip to Bell Cove and a charming boy could shatter the darkness that has fallen over Callie's life?
A story of loved ones here and not. A tale of sunshine banishing the shadows of the soul.
Trigger warning for drug abuse, grief, loss of a sibling/child, underage drinking, suicide, mention of abandonment, and injury.
Hostile and frustrated, Callie was consumed with anger. Nothing like the girl she used to be, the former swimmer was lost in a life without her sister. Bitter negativity was built like a wall around her broken, vulnerable soul, attempting to keep her guilt in and other people out. Scared and emotionally scarred, it was wonderful to see the normal (and not so normal) ways she tried to heal.
From a mother there but not, to a father unsure how to handle anything anymore, to an aunt who wasn't afraid to be candid about everything, Calli wasn't alone in her pain over losing Chole. Although they didn't get much on page time, they each embodied a different way grief manifests itself. Calli's memories made it impossible not to see all the ways starry eyed Chloe had touched the family's lives.
One of the most well written relationships in the book was that of the Ryan sisters. The ways their friendship, love, betrayls, their history, their very sisterhood changed and crept through these pages was artfully done. Though our relationship has several key differences, these two very much reminded me of my sister and myself.
Sometimes we just need those people who are determined to not let us wallow in our sadness. Sweet Tucker Morgan was a local boy with a relentlessly kind heart. Carrying his own troubles, he (with the help of some very cute cats) met Calli's pessimism with no judgements and patience. Encouraging, safe, and trusting, I adored the chemistry these two had. They didn't heal each other, so much as they help each other to begin to heal.
When someone dies, it's not just them who are gone. Pieces of those who loved them die, at least temporarily, and even if those pieces come back, they're never quite the same. Hauntingly powerful waves of emotion crashed through Katy Upperman's book, almost large enough presences to be characters themselves. Pleasantly paced, How the Light Gets In was a chilling tale of sisters, love, and living in the aftermath of loss. Although it's paranormal aspects grew kind of lackluster, its saddeningly sweet focus on recognizing pain, the difficulty of putting yourself back together, moving on, forgiveness, and forgiving yourself was fantastically done. Aided by some gorgeously descriptive passages, hope quietly sprouted, reminding us to come back again, just like the perennials around Bell Cove. While the lovely ending made me cry, I enjoyed this contemporary.
Will you let How the Light Gets In into your life?