{"product_id":"the-fall-of-innocence-isbn-9781524737757","title":"The Fall of Innocence","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Lovely Bones\u003c\/i\u003e meets Celeste Ng for teens\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003ein this gorgeous, haunting, and tragic novel that examines the crippling--and far-reaching--effects of one person's trauma on her family, her community, and herself.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor the past eight years, sixteen-year-old Emilia DeJesus has done her best to move on from the traumatic attack she suffered in the woods behind her elementary school. She's forced down the memories--the feeling of the twigs cracking beneath her, choking on her own blood, unable to scream. Most of all, she's tried to forget about Jeremy Lance, the boy responsible, the boy who caused her such pain. Emilia believes that the crows who watched over her that day, who helped her survive, are still on her side, encouraging her to live fully. And with the love and support of her mother, brother, and her caring boyfriend, Emilia is doing just that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut when a startling discovery about her attacker's identity comes to light, and the memories of that day break through the mental box in which she'd shut them away, Emilia is forced to confront her new reality and make sense of shifting truths about her past, her family, and herself. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA compulsively-readable tragedy that reminds us of the fragility of human nature.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eThe Fall of Innocence\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e* \"Sanchez deftly shows the long-lasting impact of the assault. . . . An intimate and tragic look at how traumatic incidents affect individuals, their families, and others around them.\" --\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e, STARRED REVIEW\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e* \"Sanchez writes with stunning detail, showcasing the beauty that can be found in small moments, in family interactions, in nature, and in seemingly everyday objects. . . and illustrates how a trauma like Emilia's has widespread effects.\" --\u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e, STARRED REVIEW\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e* \"It is hard to imagine a more beautifully told, more moving, or more authentic story of one family’s journey through unbearable pain.\" --\u003ci\u003eVOYA\u003c\/i\u003e, STARRED REVIEW\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Beautifully written but ineffably sad, Emilia's story is a case study of trauma and its aftermath.\" --\u003ci\u003eBCCB\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Emilia's inner world both captivates and devastates.\" --\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Internal and contemplative, [this novel's] haunting quality lingers.\" --\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for\u003ci\u003e The Fall of Innocence\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e* \"Sanchez deftly shows the long-lasting impact of the assault. . . . An intimate and tragic look at how traumatic incidents affect individuals, their families, and others around them.\" --\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e, STARRED REVIEW\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e* \"Sanchez writes with stunning detail, showcasing the beauty that can be found in small moments, in family interactions, in nature, and in seemingly everyday objects. . . and illustrates how a trauma like Emilia’s has widespread effects.\" --\u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e, STARRED REVIEW\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e* \"It is hard to imagine a more beautifully told, more moving, or more authentic story of one family’s journey through unbearable pain.\" --\u003ci\u003eVOYA\u003c\/i\u003e, STARRED REVIEW\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Beautifully written but ineffably sad, Emilia’s story is a case study of trauma and its aftermath.\" --\u003ci\u003eBCCB\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Emilia’s inner world both captivates and devastates.\" --\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"Internal and contemplative, [this novel's] haunting quality lingers.\" --\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eJenny Torres Sanchez (www.jennytorressanchez.com) is a full-time writer and former English teacher. She was born in Brooklyn, New York, but has lived on the border of two worlds her whole life. She is the author of \u003ci\u003eWe Are Not From Here\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eThe Fall of Innocence\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eBecause of the Sun\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eDeath, Dickinson, and the Demented Life of Frenchie Garcia\u003c\/i\u003e; and \u003ci\u003eThe Downside of Being Charlie\u003c\/i\u003e. She lives in Orlando, Florida, with her husband and children. Follow her on Twitter @jetchez and on Instagram @jennytsanchez.Emilia searched the sidewalk for the little gifts her birds often left for her, trying not to think of how strange her mother had just acted. She came across the little gifts all the time—curiously tiny pencils, forgotten fallen beads, red-and-white twine from bakery boxes, so many extra smooth or unique pebbles, lovely leaves still intact, and so many lost mates of earrings. How many of these she’d collected in her room over the years. It was how her birds said they were thinking of her. They hadn’t forgotten that day when they watched from the treetops and saw what happened to her on the playground.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Maybe the search would lead her to \u003ci\u003esomething\u003c\/i\u003e. A strange thrill filled her as she walked and played this game. \u003ci\u003eSomething, something, something. \u003c\/i\u003eShe was looking for \u003ci\u003esomething\u003c\/i\u003e. The word filled her mind. She wanted to do \u003ci\u003esomething\u003c\/i\u003e. \u003ci\u003eSomething \u003c\/i\u003ewas going to happen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Up ahead she saw the flag flying over the old elementary school.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eThey’re going to bulldoze it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And suddenly she knew.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eMa doesn’t think you’re strong. Nobody thinks you’re strong. Here’s your chance to prove them wrong.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emilia looked up and noticed a single black bird flying in the direction of the school. She looked at the flag again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She’d assured her mother that morning that she’d be fine. And she would be. She knew exactly what she was doing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e You can’t go around scared just because it’s cold, Emilia.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She told herself this as she walked toward the school. Her pace slowed the closer she got, but she kept telling herself, Just go.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As she approached the building with its peaked roof and red brick, her heart beat faster and seemed to slide upward into her throat. But she made herself walk up to the doors anyway.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eDon’t be afraid. You can do this.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But Emilia couldn’t help it. Her eyes wandered over to the house on the corner, the spot where she’d picked up that bracelet so long ago. She still remembered so clearly when she’d looked up to see Jeremy Lance looking right back at her, trying to get her attention.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e That day, Emilia had turned her head away, looked at the aide on the bus, hoping the woman would notice Jeremy Lance banging on the window like that. But she was helping other kids buckle up. So the banging got louder, and he hit the window harder with his fist.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e Bam! Look. Bam! At. Bam! Me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e Bam! Look. Bam! At. Bam! Me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e That’s what Emilia heard in those thumps. But she wouldn’t look at him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eBam! Look. Bam! At. Bam! Me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Harder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And harder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emilia should have walked away, or run to her classroom, but she felt stuck to the sidewalk. She kept her eyes on the aide, who was still buckling in children. How could it take her so long? And then she couldn’t resist. The thumping grew even louder. Slowly, she looked back at Jeremy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He \u003ci\u003ewas \u003c\/i\u003etrying to get her attention. Emilia was sure of it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He had looked desperate, out of control. His distorted face yelling in anger as he kept hitting the window so hard and wouldn’t stop. And then—\u003ci\u003ecrack!\u003c\/i\u003e—his hand came crashing through the sharp plastic. The broken window slashed into his arm and suddenly there was so much blood. The plastic was smeared with blood and his screams filled the air. The bus driver and the aide ran to him, but it looked like not even they knew what to do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On and on Jeremy screamed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And on he bled. Looking at Emilia as her brother came running back to her, how she stood there, crying.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eDon’t be afraid\u003c\/i\u003e, Tomás said, hugging her hard as she covered her ears and shut her eyes tight. But still she saw Jeremy’s face and heard his screams.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e Don’t be afraid\u003c\/i\u003e, Emilia told herself now, and let out a breath as she turned back to the two large school doors in front of her. She wrapped her hands around the ice-cold metal handles and pulled hard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Locked. Neither door budged.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She stood there, relieved. She couldn’t get in. That was it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eYou tried\u003c\/i\u003e, she told herself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She stepped back and looked up at the school.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eWhy do you even want to go inside, anyway?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Because.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eBecause everyone has always treated you like you couldn’t.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eBut look, here you are. And you can’t\u003c\/i\u003e, Emilia thought.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This sent a ripple of anger through her body. Anger she hadn’t known existed, that had come from some deep part of herself she’d forgotten and now filled her eyes with tears. She looked at the school again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Why should she have to stand out here in the cold when she wanted to go in, take a look around, return to the place so many people thought she was too weak to return to?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eI don’t need to be protected from this place. Or anything. I lived through the worst, didn’t I?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She stared at the doors that refused to let her in. That shut her out. Soon this place would be gone, bulldozed, as if it never existed. And she would lose her chance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eWhy did Ma take me out of school, anyway? \u003c\/i\u003eshe wondered as she pulled at the doors again. She would get in; she would find a way to get in that school now. Emilia’s determination made her forget how the past really happened, how she didn’t talk for so long afterward, how it took her so long to recover. Right now all she could think was how her sudden withdrawal had only drawn more attention to everything. And how when she was out with Ma sometimes, she’d suddenly feel someone looking at her. And each time she looked up, it was a kid her age staring at her like she was a yeti. She knew that the next day, the kids at school would be whispering about her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eGuess who I saw? Emilia DeJesus.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e I thought she was dead.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e No, no, she’s alive. But I heard she hardly ever comes out of her room, much less her house.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e Oh, I heard they had to put her in one of those institutions.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In two years, Emilia’s absence made the kids come up with their own stories of what had happened to her. How she became a bird, a crazy bird, kept in a cage. And when Ma couldn’t homeschool her anymore because Dad left and she had to work full time, Emilia had to go to middle school, where everyone stared and stared at her for that whole first year.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She should have just come back to this stupid school right after it happened. She pictured herself walking into her old classroom that next day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eLook, I lived! \u003c\/i\u003eshe would have told them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emilia kicked the door in frustration.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eWhat did you expect? That they would keep it open for you to come and face your demons?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She turned and looked at the day, the unremarkable day, but one she’d sort of decided was her day of liberation. The day on which not even locked doors could keep her out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emilia slowly walked the perimeter of the school, looking for a way to get in without being obvious to anyone who might be watching. She noticed a broken window near some bushes along the side of the school. She looked up and down the street—when she was sure no one was around, she walked over to the window and reached in to release the latch. In moments, it was open and she slipped inside.","brand":"Viking Books for Young Readers","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300810936549,"sku":"NP9781524737757","price":18.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781524737757_0431e8ef-e6fb-4ae1-b302-6ce005fb6377.jpg?v=1742921592","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-fall-of-innocence-isbn-9781524737757","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}