About the Book
Ten-year-old Brian McKibben is a wanderer. Eight months ago, he wandered into the street and was hit by a truck. Olivia Richards, his newly divorced mother, was accused of neglect by Child Protection Services. She’s doing her best to prove them wrong. Essential oils, a consultation with an herbalist, and an airtight schedule are only some of the things she does to keep Brian safe and help him heal from brain damage caused by the accident.
Her carefully laid plans begin to unravel when it becomes apparent Olivia’s CPS caseworker isn’t the only one watching her. The walls of her Pilates studio seem to have eyes, especially at night. Cryptic messages of death and danger begin showing up in strange places. Someone is stalking her.
Who can she turn to for help? The authorities would inform CPS, and she might never be free of the county’s intrusion in her life. She suspects her ex-husband of using scare tactics to regain custody of their son. Her new relationship is complicated and old suspicions haunt the young mother.
About the Author
Greta Boris was raised in Greenwich Village, New York by an opera singing, piano playing, voice coach and a magazine publisher. Her original life plan was to be a famous Broadway actor, singer, and dancer, but when she moved to Laguna Beach, California, she changed her plans due to the commute. Today she writes to inspire, entertain, motivate, and so she can afford nice wine.
Book Excerpt: 1
The person, if it was a person—it could have been a large dog, she hadnʹt gotten a good look—lay unmoving where theyʹd left it. Her heart thudded in her chest. What should she do?
Abby couldnʹt leave her cell. Not without help. Her father had wanted to give her an escape hatch, but sheʹd said no. The experience had to be as realistic as possible.
If she could come and go whenever she wanted, it would defeat the whole purpose. But sheʹd never imagined something like this would happen.
Guilt and anxiety itched like a hair shirt. What on earth had possessed her to take six weeks off work to lock herself in these four walls? She hadn’t anticipated this feeling of helplessness. She’d only thought about the peace solitude can bring and her publishing goals, of course. She pushed herself off the stones, walked five steps to the other end of her enclosure, pivoted, and took five steps back. Repeat. Repeat.
Book Excerpt: 2
That should be engraved on her tombstone—a perfect and succinct description of her life. The number of things sheʹd left undone was staggering. She should have let Carlos know where she was going. She didnʹt. She should have said yes, or even no, to his proposal. She didnʹt. Were marriage and children going to fall into the category of things she didnʹt do but would regret later?
She should have gone away to college, escaped the small town labels attached to her family name. But she didnʹt. Sheʹd stayed, and hoped somehow her motherʹs legacy would disappear from the communal memory. It didnʹt.
Her greatest sin of omission, however, the sin that had knocked over the first domino, the one that brought the whole line tumbling down, was ever present in her mind. Sheʹd thought, hoped, and prayed that she could shed the guilt by devoting herself to this time of renewal.
But so far it hadnʹt worked.
Book Excerpt: 3
The irony of her position struck her. She had willingly shut herself into a room with much the same dimensions as this one. It had only one small window, like this one. It had no door, however. But even without a door, sheʹd had freedom.
The anchorites of old willingly consigned themselves to a cell which would eventually become their grave. They had a funeral service before they entered. Yet, they were freer than Abby was now, because it was their choice. Would this room become her grave?
Autonomy. Sheʹd never realized before how beautiful that word was. When one was stripped of the ability to rule themselves, to determine their own fate, didnʹt they cease to exist in some way?
Sunlight streaked the gray floor with gold. By its slant, she guessed it was at least 1:30.
She still had one hour of freedom, one hour to be Abby. She wanted to experience every moment she had left. When the sun reached her and warmed her skin, that would signal the end of her time in this new anchorhold. But she couldnʹt bear to watch the minutes move across the floor. She closed her eyes.