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Um assassinato, uma verdade oculta. As raízes do silêncio são muito mais profundas do que se pode imaginar.
Alicia Berenson escreve um diário para colocar suas ideias em ordem. Ele é tanto uma válvula de escape quanto uma forma de provar ao seu adorado marido que está bem. Ela não consegue suportar conviver com a ideia de que está deixando Gabriel preocupado, de que está lhe causando algum mal.
Alicia Berenson tinha 33 anos quando matou seu marido com cinco tiros. E nunca mais disse uma palavra.
O psicoterapeuta forense Theo Faber está convencido de que é capaz de tratar Alicia, depois de tantos outros falharem. E, se ela falar, ele será capaz de ouvir a verdade?367 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 5, 2019
“Please don’t let’s get dramatic.”
“Perhaps I’m imagining it. But I’m sensing something… Keep an eye on it. Any aggression or competitiveness interferes with the work. You two need to work with each other, not against each other.”
“But remember, with greater feeling comes greater danger.”
“Her silence was like a mirror—reflecting yourself back at you.”
~“Now I saw the truth. [She] hadn’t saved me—she wasn’t capable of saving anyone. She was no heroine to be admired—just a frightened, fucked-up girl, a cheating liar. This whole mythology of us that I had built up […] now collapsed in seconds—like a house of cards in a gust of wind.”
~“How was this possible? Had she been acting the whole time? Had she ever loved me?”
~“Why did she do it? How could she?”
“She was a statue; a Greek goddess come to life in my hands.” ~ “He looked like a Greek statue” ~ “the actress playing Alcestis looked like a Greek statue” ~ “my fate was already decided—like in a Greek tragedy” ~ “Casting herself as a tragic heroine”.

“Her white dress glowed ghostlike in the torchlight” ~ “I remember so much white everywhere: […] the white of her eyes, her teeth, her skin. I’d never known that skin could be so luminous, so translucent ; ivory white with occasional blue veins visible just beneath the surface, like threads of color in white marble. She was a statue.” ~ “strands of long red hair falling across bony shoulders, blue veins beneath the translucent skin”.
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As you will see, it’s an incredible story—of that there is no doubt.
Whether you believe it or not is up to you.
But let us not forget that while Alicia Berenson may be a murderer, she was also an artist.






“...we often mistake love for fireworks - for drama and dysfunction. But real love is very quiet, very still. It's boring, if seen from the perspective of high drama. Love is deep and calm - and constant.”