{"product_id":"look-for-me-isbn-9781524744328","title":"Look for Me","description":"\u003cb\u003eA \u003ci\u003eNEW YORK TIMES\u003c\/i\u003e BESTSELLER\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An utterly absorbing story about troubled families and twisted fates. You won’t be able to put it down—and it will haunt you long after you turn the final page.”—Shari Lapena\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“A complex crime scene, a missing girl, a ticking clock: no one writes a more page-turning, gut-wrenching thriller.”—Tess Gerritsen\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn #1\u003ci\u003e New York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Lisa Gardner's latest twisty thrill ride, Detective D. D. Warren and \u003ci\u003eFind Her\u003c\/i\u003e's Flora Dane return in a race against the clock to either save a young girl's life . . . or bring her to justice.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe home of a family of five is now a crime scene: four of them savagely murdered, one—a sixteen-year-old girl—missing. Was she lucky to have escaped? Or is her absence evidence of something sinister? Detective D. D. Warren is on the case—but so is survivor-turned-avenger Flora Dane. Seeking different types of justice, they must make sense of the clues left behind by a young woman who, whether as victim or suspect, is silently pleading, \u003ci\u003eLook for me. \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eLook for Me\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eLook for Me\u003c\/i\u003e starts with a bang and never lets up! It’s an utterly absorbing story about troubled families and twisted fates. You won’t be able to put it down—and it will haunt you long after you turn the final page.”—Shari Lapena, bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Couple Next Door\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eA Stranger in the House\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“Family, friendships, and foster relationships are explored in this emotional, page-turning thriller.”\u003ci\u003e\u003ci\u003e—USA Today\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"Gardner has a talent when it comes to exploring uncomfortable topics and the various psychological aspects that accompany them while evoking truly emotional responses. . . . Though the material Gardner writes about might sometimes be dark, she knows how to shine a light and generate optimism when all looks lost.”\u003ci\u003e\u003ci\u003e—\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eAssociated Press\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"Gardner has tackled a tough subject with some complicated protagonists. . . . Fans will find the result satisfying as ever.”\u003ci\u003e—Florida Times-Union\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“Suspenseful and wholly believable, this ninth entry will win new fans for the series, especially among those who favor Karin Slaughter's gritty procedurals.”\u003ci\u003e—Booklist \u003c\/i\u003e(starred review)\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“A splendidly dark foray into the blood-soaked reality of family secrets and squabbles, and a relentless page-turner of a tale chock-full of Gardner’s trademark twists and turns.”\u003ci\u003e—Providence Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“Gardner shines a heartbreaking light on foster care abuse while steadily ratcheting up the tension to a genuinely surprising and emotional finale.”\u003ci\u003e\u003ci\u003e—Publishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“The twists and turns in this gripping D. D. Warren adventure will keep readers turning the pages.”—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“Master storyteller Gardner does an outstanding job delicately building the evolving relationship between these two damaged but strong women. . . . As always, the plot is intricate and intense.”\u003ci\u003e—RT Book Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“A complex crime scene, a missing girl, a ticking clock: no one writes a more page-turning, gut-wrenching thriller.”—Tess Gerritsen, bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eI Know a Secret\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Gardner again proves herself as a top thriller writer. . . . The tense \u003ci\u003eLook for Me\u003c\/i\u003e forcefully delves into family dynamics while also exploring the failures of foster care.”—\u003ci\u003eSun-Sentinel \u003c\/i\u003e(South Florida)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"[A] twisty thrill ride.”—\u003ci\u003eThe Conway Daily Sun \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Terror, twists, and trepidation. \u003ci\u003eLook for Me\u003c\/i\u003e is a triple-salvo thriller.”—Kathy Reichs, bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eTwo Nights\u003c\/i\u003e and the Temperance Brennan series\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePraise for Lisa Gardner\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“You'll read \u003ci\u003eFind Her\u003c\/i\u003e for its adrenaline-charged plot. You'll remember it for its insights into trauma and forgiveness.”—Oprah.com\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A psychological thriller both chilling and emotional. Her narrative thrums with heart-pounding scenes and unexpected twists that have you furiously flipping pages.”—\u003ci\u003eUSA Today's \u003c\/i\u003eHappy Ever After on\u003ci\u003e Find Her\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The line between mysteries and thrillers and so-called literary fiction has always been a thin one, but contemporary writers like Gardner make that sort of arbitrary distinction seem especially foolish. . . . \u003ci\u003eFind Her . . . \u003c\/i\u003eis a taut, brilliantly constructed look at the same sort of horrific situation that powered Emma Donoghue’s \u003ci\u003eRoom\u003c\/i\u003e.\"\u003ci\u003e—Connecticut Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eLisa Gardner\u003c\/b\u003e is the #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of over twenty suspense novels, including \u003ci\u003eThe Neighbor\u003c\/i\u003e, which won Thriller of the Year from the International Thriller Writers. An avid hiker, traveler, and cribbage player, she lives in the mountains of New Hampshire with her family.***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof*** \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCopyright © 2018 Lisa Gardner\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003ePrologue\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA year later, what Sarah remembered most was waking up to the sound of giggling.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"Shhh. Not so loud! My roommates hate it when I bring boys home. Killjoys need their beauty sleep.\"\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"So, no making noises? Like this?\" A wolf howl from outside Sar­ah's bedroom door.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eFresh giggling. Then loud thumps as someone, probably Heidi, ran into the coffee table, the couch, the standing lamp.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"Oh well,\" Heidi announced. \"Quiet was never gonna happen. I'm a screamer and proud of it.\"\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA man's voice: \"Knew I picked the right girl at the bar. I like scream­ers. Always have.\"\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eMore giggling, more thumps.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSarah groaned, rolled face down on her tiny mattress, and pulled her pillow over her head. On the opposite side of the wall, no doubt Christy and Kelly were doing the same. Heidi Raepuro had been a last-minute addition to their apartment. A friend of a friend of a friend, qualified mostly by the fact Heidi was willing to pay extra for her own bedroom, and Sarah, Christy, and Kelly, who'd known one another since fresh­ man year, had really wanted the three-bedroom unit. Walking distance to Boston College, bay windows, hardwood floors, crown molding. When Sarah had first walked into the space, she'd felt like a grown-up. No more minifridge, no more standing-room-only dorm room. No more bare mattress shared with two younger siblings in an overcrowded slumlord's paradise.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe long nights studying when the rest of her friends had been out partying or repeating their parents' drug-fueled mistakes had finally paid off.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eWhich was the other reason she'd fallen in love with the brightly lit apartment. Because after spending her entire childhood sharing, shar­ing, sharing, this place offered her the greatest luxury imaginable: her own room. Granted, it was barely the size of a twin mattress, more a closet than a bedroom, most likely converted by an enterprising landlord looking to charge a three-bedroom price for what was orig­inally a two-bedroom unit, but Sarah didn't care. Tiny fit her budget. And with Christy and Kelly able to split the largest room, and silly, vapid Heidi cashing out the other main sleeping space, every­ one was happy. Especially Sarah, ensconced in her minuscule slice of paradise.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eExcept for nights like tonight.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eMore crashing-then moaning. Good God, didn't Heidi ever get enough?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA curious scrape.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"Hey now.\" Heidi's voice, hiccupping slightly as she panted from exertion.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSarah rolled her eyes, pulled the pillow tighter around her ears. \"Wait . \u003c\/i\u003e.. \u003ci\u003eI don't want \u003c\/i\u003e... \u003ci\u003eNo!”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSarah sat up just as Heidi screamed. Loud, pitching, and \u003c\/i\u003e...\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eDo screams have a taste? Fire? Ash? Red-hot cinnamon candies, which as a little girl Sarah liked to let melt on the tip of her tongue?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eOr is it more that screams have a color? Green and gold giggles, purple and blue cackles, or this? Molten white. Melt-your-eyeballs, singe-the-hair-on-your-arms, bright, bright, white? A color too bril­liant for nature, searing straight to the core.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThat's what Heidi screamed. Molten white.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eIt pierced the thin walls, threatened to blow out the windows. It jolted Sarah, sitting bolt upright.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eAnd completely, totally, unable to move.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThis was the part she still didn't remember well. Not even a year later. The police asked her about the details, of course. Detectives, a forensic nurse, later more investigators, crime scene specialists.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eAll she could tell them was that the night started with green and gold giggles and ended with molten-white screams. Heidi's the whit­est and brightest but also blessedly short.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eChristy and Kelly. Two girls in one room. Best friends, members of the lacrosse team. Forewarned, forearmed, they fought. They hurled trophies. Was the sound of crashing metal a taste or a color? No, just a crash. Followed by screams, all kinds of colors and flavors. Fear, rage, anguish. Determination as one nailed him with a lacrosse stick. Horror as he came back with his blade.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eHe got Kelly right in the gut (Sarah read the report later), but Kelly got him by the ankles. She rolled herself into him, around him, a human armadillo. And he slashed and he slashed, glancing blows off her ribs, which allowed Christy time to grab the comforter from the lower bunk bed and to throw it at him, tangle up his arms.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"Sarah!\" they were screaming. \"Help, Sarah! Nine-one-one, nine­ one-one!\"\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSarah called. Another one of those things she didn't remember, but later she listened to it at her own request. A recording of her voice, trembling, barely a whisper, as she reached the dispatch center: \"Help us, please help us, he's killing them. He's going to kill us all.\"\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eShe left her room. It had to be done. In her tiny room, she'd be trapped, the proverbial fish in a barrel. She had to get out to open ground.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eTo protect herself?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eTo save her roommates?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eShe didn't know. A question to ask herself during all the sleepless nights to come.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eShe left her room.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eShe went toward her roommates' bedroom. She saw an open hand through the doorway, Kelly's splayed fingers, and without thinking Sarah grabbed it. Was she going to pull her roommate to safety? Man up and carry each and every one of them out to the hall? No time to think. Just do. So she grabbed Kelly's hand and pulled hard.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eAnd found herself holding an arm. Just \u003c\/i\u003e... \u003ci\u003ean arm.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eBecause, apparently, when a girl armadilloed herself around a mad­ man's ankles, sooner or later he got tired of slashing his victim and simply dismantled her instead.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eScreams ahead of her, Christy, still fighting. Followed by a plea behind her.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"Sarah ... \"\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eShe didn't know which way to turn. These sounds, these sights, this night, it didn't register for her. Couldn't.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSlowly she twisted toward the voice behind her, holding Kelly's warm, wet arm tight against her chest. She found herself face-to-face with Heidi. The girl had crawled from her bedroom. The skin of her naked shoulders appeared silver in the glow of lights through the win­dows. Unmarred, untouched. But the blonde was hunched forward awkwardly, cradling her stomach, and already Sarah could pick up the whiff of perforated bowels.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eMore screaming from the bedroom. Not molten white. Lava red. Pure rage from a star athlete refusing to be cut down in the prime of her life.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eAnd Sarah knew then what she had to do. She turned away from beautiful, stupid, gutted Heidi. She tightened her grip on poor Kelly's arm, and she joined the fray.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eChristy, backed into a corner against the bunk bed, armed with her lacrosse stick. Madman, freed from the comforter, dancing around the body splayed at his feet, enjoying himself, taking his time.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"Excuse me,\" Sarah said.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eHe darted toward Christy. She swung her stick down. Last min ute, he twirled left, jabbed the blade into the soft spot beneath her ribs. A wet, squishing sound, followed by Christy's hollow grunt. She jerked the stick back, tapped him on the side of his head. Not hard, but he retreated.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eNo screaming now. Just the sound of exertion. Everyone breath­ing hard.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"Excuse me,\" Sarah said again.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eFor the first time, the blade man stilled. He turned slightly, a frown on his blood-flecked face. Sarah stared at him. She felt as if she needed to see him. Needed to register him. Or none of this could be real. Es­pecially not this moment, when she held out her hands and offered her friend's severed arm to the man who'd murdered her.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eDark hair. High cheekbones. Sculpted face. Exactly the kind of guy Heidi would bring home from a bar. Exactly the kind of guy who would forever be out of Sarah's league.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"You forgot this,\" she said, still holding out the arm. (\"What?\" the first officer had interrupted. \"You said what?\" \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"I had to.\" Sarah tried explaining to the woman.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eExcept maybe there was no explaining such a thing. She'd just known she had to do something. Stop him. Interrupt. Make all those red and white screams go away. So she'd walked into the room, and she'd offered up the only thing she had: Kelly's bloody arm.)\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eHe came for her then. Turned fully, blade dripping at his side, lips peeled back from his teeth.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eShe watched him advance. She didn't move. She didn't scream. She felt like a little girl, standing in the kitchen as her father picked up the boiling teakettle. \u003c\/i\u003e\"What the fuck, you stupid-ass woman? When I ask you for my money, you give me my money! I'm the one in charge here. Now do as I say, or I’ll throw this whole damn pot into your bitch‑ugly face. Then we’ll see who’s willing to take care of you after that!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eDon’t look away, don’t make a sound. This is what she’d learned from her mother over the years. If they’re going to hurt you, make them do it while staring you in the eye.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eMadman halted directly in front of her, blade at his side. She could smell the blood on his cheeks, the whiskey on his breath.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eHe said to her: “Scream.”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eAs slowly, so slowly, he lifted the knife. Up, up, up.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eBehind him, Christy fumbled with her lacrosse stick. Tried to move. Tried to take advantage. But the stick fell from her trembling fingers. It clattered as she slid down the wall, sank to the floor. A sigh in the distance: no more rage from the star athlete, just acceptance. So this is what it felt like to die.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e“Scream,” he whispered again.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSarah stared at him, and in his gaze, she knew exactly what he was going to do. He was not her loser father. Not subject to a quick temper or drunken rages. No, the hunting knife in his hand, the blood on his face. He liked it. Felt no shame, no remorse. Heidi’s screams, Christy’s fight, her own silent stand—this was the most fun he’d had in years.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” \u003ci\u003eshe\u003c\/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eheard herself whisper, \u003c\/i\u003e“I will fear no evil.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThen she closed her eyes and clutched this last piece of Kelly close, as with a laugh, a chortle of glee, he slashed the knife straight down toward her chest.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eAn explosion. Two, three, four, five. More pain, her shoulder, her chest, her throat. He’d stabbed her, she thought, as she collapsed to the ground. No, he’d shot her. But that didn’t make sense . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA ragged sob behind her, followed by the stench of death growing ever closer. Heidi dragged herself across the hardwood floor.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eHolding a small pistol, Sarah noticed now. Heidi had a gun.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e“I’m sorry,” Heidi whispered. She was crying, tears mixing, smearing with the blood on her cheeks. “Never . . . shoulda . . .”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e“Shhh,” Sarah said.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eHeidi put her head on Sarah’s shoulder. Sarah winced; Heidi had shot her while shooting him. But it hardly seemed to matter now. Blood pooling on her throat, blood dripping from her back, so much pain, and yet it seemed far away, abstract.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe madman was still. The molten screams had ended. Now, there was just this. A final moment.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSarah and Heidi both placed their hands on Kelly’s arm. “I’m sorry,” Heidi mumbled again.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eAs Sarah listened to her last gurgling breath.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e“I will fear no evil,” she whispered in the ensuing silence. “I will fear no evil, fear no evil, fear no evil.”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe police finally burst through the front door. The EMTs rushed to their rescue.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e“Jesus Christ,” the first cop said, coming to a halt in the middle of the apartment.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e“I will fear no evil,” Sarah told the woman. And, once more, offered up Kelly’s severed arm.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA year later, what she remembered most was waking up to the sound of giggling.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eDO SCREAMS HAVE A TASTE? Fire? Ash? Red-hot cinnamon candies, which as a little girl Sarah liked to let melt on the tip of her tongue?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e“EXCUSE ME. YOU FORGOT THIS.”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSOUND OF GIGGLING. MOLTEN-WHITE screams.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eI WILL FEAR NO EVIL…\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eONE YEAR LATER, ONE YEAR later, one year later . \u003c\/i\u003e..\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA KNOCK AT THE DOOR. Hard. And then again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSarah bolted awake in her tiny studio apartment. Drenched in sweat, breath ragged. She lay perfectly still, ears straining. Then it came again. Knocking. Pounding. Someone demanding entrance.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSlowly, she reached for the top drawer of her nightstand. No stashed knife. She couldn't even look at a blade. No gun. She'd tried, but her hands shook too much. So a canister of pepper spray. Meant to chase off bears when hiking in the woods and available at any outdoor gear or camping store. She had the canisters stashed all over her single-room apartment, in every bag she carried.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe drew out the canister, sliding off the mattress as the knocking started again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe stank. Could smell the reek of her own sweat and terror. Night after night after night.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eScreams \u003ci\u003edid \u003c\/i\u003ehave a color. It was the only thing she truly understood anymore. Screams had a color, and she was now intimately familiar with all the shades of despair.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"I will fear no evil,\" Sarah told herself as she put her eye to the peep­ hole and gazed into the dimly lit hall.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA lone woman. Late twenties, early thirties maybe. Dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt, she looked like someone Sarah should know. Had maybe met once upon a time. Then again, two A.M. was a strange time for a social call.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"It's okay,\" the woman spoke up, no doubt sensing Sarah's gaze on her. She held up both hands, as if to prove she was unarmed. \"I won't hurt you.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Who are you?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Honestly? You're gonna have to open up to find out. That's part of the deal. I'm here to help you, but you gotta take the first step.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"I will fear no evil,\" Sarah said, clutching her bear spray tightly.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"That's stupid,\" said the woman. \"World is full of evil. Fear is what keeps us safe.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Who \u003ci\u003eare \u003c\/i\u003eyou?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Someone who's not going to stand here forever. Make your choice, Sarah. Hide behind platitudes or make the world a better place.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSarah hesitated. But then, her fingers landed on the first bolt lock. Then the second. The third. There was something about this woman. Not what she said so much as the way she stood.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChristy, she found herself thinking. The woman stood like Christy had, once upon a time. A challenger, ready to take on the world.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSlowly, very slowly, Sarah eased open the door until she stood face-to-face with her unexpected guest.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Nice pepper spray,\" the woman commented. She strode into Sar­ah's tiny apartment. Rotated a full circle, looking all around. Nodded once to herself, as if all was what she expected.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe turned, faced Sarah directly, and stuck out a hand.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"My name is Flora Dane,\" she announced. \"A year ago, you sur­vived. Now I'm gonna teach you how to live again.\"\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Dutton","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301101523173,"sku":"NP9781524744328","price":18.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781524744328.jpg?v=1767731721","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/look-for-me-isbn-9781524744328","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}