Danyelle P. reviewed on + 125 more book reviews
It was foggy the day of the funeral...white swirling mists that matched the thick fog of pain and confusion in Jenny's brain. Jenny's mother was dead, carried away by pneumonia after years in the Hampshire Psychiatric Hospital.
As friends and family pressed around to offer condolences, a hand clutched Jenny's arm, an anonymous voice whispered, "Forgive me. It was an accident..."
Jenny had no idea what it meant. And it didn't seem to matter. Nothing seemed to matter except her grief and her guilt, and the haunting questions that made her fear for her own sanity: What had really been wrong with her mother? How did it happen? And how was it all connected with the bankruptcy of the family business, a disaster her father had never been able to explain?
When Jenny tried to find out, she was met with a stone wall of polite silence. But there was nothing polite about whoever shut the garage door when poor, exhausted Jenny fell asleep with the car's motor running....
As friends and family pressed around to offer condolences, a hand clutched Jenny's arm, an anonymous voice whispered, "Forgive me. It was an accident..."
Jenny had no idea what it meant. And it didn't seem to matter. Nothing seemed to matter except her grief and her guilt, and the haunting questions that made her fear for her own sanity: What had really been wrong with her mother? How did it happen? And how was it all connected with the bankruptcy of the family business, a disaster her father had never been able to explain?
When Jenny tried to find out, she was met with a stone wall of polite silence. But there was nothing polite about whoever shut the garage door when poor, exhausted Jenny fell asleep with the car's motor running....
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