This is an intensely emotional and unflinching read—one that demands reflection. That impact was particularly strong for me, as many of my own experiences mirror those described through the author’s recounting of her daughter, Leah. There is a great deal to absorb here, and the book offers no refuge from the weight of its subject matter. The pain is present, fully exposed, with nowhere to hide.
The author revisits her daughter’s life from before birth onward, tracing moments, behaviors, and experiences that, when viewed in retrospect, resemble clues—breadcrumbs that now carry added meaning. This retrospective framing is one of the elements that makes the book especially difficult to read. Hindsight sharpens every detail, and the cumulative effect is emotionally heavy.
The work is clearly written with the intention of helping others understand what a path toward such an outcome can look like, with the hope of raising awareness. At the same time, it reads as an act of courage and remembrance—a deeply personal and, no doubt, therapeutic way to honor and give voice to the life of a beloved child. It is difficult to imagine the strength required to place such intimate and painful truths on the page.
For me, the book offered genuine insight. It fostered a sense of connection, prompted self-examination, and encouraged reflection on how my own journey and perceptions may have affected those around me.
This is a book that should be approached with care. For some, it may be triggering, particularly for readers who have endured similar experiences. For others, it may be healing—or at the very least, it may open the door to healing, dialogue, and a deeper awareness of the realities the book confronts.