Praise for
Diane Chamberlain
‘Emotional, complex and laced with suspense, this fascinating story is a brilliant read.’
—Closer
‘An excellent read’
—The Sun
‘This complex tale will stick with you forever.’
—Now
‘A hugely addictive twist in the tale makes this a sizzling sofa read … a deeply compelling and moving new novel.’
—Heat
‘This exquisite novel about love and friendship is written like a thriller … you won't want to put it down.’
—Bella
‘A bittersweet story about regret and hope’
—Publishers Weekly
‘A brilliantly told thriller’
—Woman
‘An engaging and absorbing story that'll have you racing through pages to finish’
—People's Friend
‘This compelling mystery will have you on the edge of your seat.’
—Inside Soap
‘A fabulous thriller with plenty of surprises’
—Star
‘Essential reading for Jodi Picoult fans’
—Daily Mail
‘Chamberlain skilfully … plumbs the nature of crimes of the heart.’
—Publishers Weekly
‘So full of unexpected twists you'll find yourself wanting to finish it in one sitting. Fans of Jodi Picoult's style will love how Diane Chamberlain writes.’
—Candis
‘The plot is intriguing and haunting revelations will have you glued to the very end.’
—Peterborough Evening Telegraph
‘I was drawn in from the first page and simply could not put it down until the last. I think I have found a new favourite author.’
—Daily Echo
‘[A] gripping summer read that's full of twists and turns
—5 stars’
— Woman's Own
‘The compelling story of three friends who are forced to question what it is to be a friend, mother and a sister.’
—Sunday World
‘A gripping novel’
—The Lady (online)
‘Diane Chamberlain is a marvellously gifted author. Every book she writes is a gem.’
—Literary Times
‘A strong tale that deserves a comparison with Jodi Picoult for, as this builds, one does indeed wonder if all will come right in the end.’
—lovereading.co.uk
‘I couldn't put it down.’
—Bookseller
She would have no music where she was going.
Zoe stood in the center of her living room, with its vaulted ceilings, white carpeting and glassed-wall view of the Pacific Ocean, and stared, transfixed by the huge speaker in the corner of the room. She’d come to terms with the fact that she would lose the beach and the smell of the sea. She knew she could live without television—gladly without television and its bevy of new, young talent—and she could live without newspapers and magazines. But no music? It suddenly seemed like a deal breaker. But then her eyes drifted to the picture of Marti, where it rested on the top of the baby grand piano. Marti had been twenty in that picture, standing next to Max on the beach. She was near Max, but not touching him, and there was no sense of connection between father and daughter, as though each of their pictures had been taken separately and then spliced together. It disturbed Zoe to see that distance between them. If the picture had been of herself and Marti, would they look equally as detached from one another? she wondered. She feared that they would. It was time to change that.
In her boyish way, Marti looked beautiful in the picture. Zoe studied the short cap of blond hair, the compact, small-breasted body, huge blue eyes and long dark lashes that gave away Marti’s identity as a female, and Zoe knew she was making the right decision. In a choice between music and Marti, there was no contest. Everything else in the universe paled in comparison to Zoe’s need to save her daughter.
She turned away from the wall of stereo equipment and began climbing the broad spiral staircase to the second story, her resolve once again intact. It was quite simple, really, leaving forever. She had planned well ahead and now had no need even to pack a suitcase. What could she possibly put in a suitcase that would last her the rest of her life? Besides, someone might realize a suitcase was missing. Unlikely, since she had an entire room on the third story filled with luggage; but still, it was possible, and she couldn’t take that chance.