Kirjahaku

Griffin Tomlin is dead. And Clara's sister killed him . . .Four months after the murder, the entire town of Shiloh is still in shock. For Clara Porterfield, the normal world has crumbled around her in a million chaotic pieces. Now Clara lives in a new reality, where her sister awaits trial for murder, her mother obsessively digs in a dead, frozen garden, and her father lives and breathes denial. At school, Clara is haunted by her classmates' morbid curiosity--and all of the unspoken questions they won't ask.But none of them knows what she knows . . .Now Clara's sister wants something from her--the one thing in all of this that Clara isn't ready to face: the truth about what really happened that night. Because this story didn't die with Griffin Tomlin. There's another story that needs to be told. And sometimes, the lies we're told are nowhere near as deadly as the lies we tell ourselves . . .

They say it is quietest in the eye of a storm . . . they lied.Bronwyn's mother is late. Again. Sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting, Bronwyn figures she's flaked out again. She's always flaking out. Stomping home ready for a fight, Bronwyn is met by a cataclysmic tornado heading directly toward their run-down trailer. Bronwyn barely escapes with her life. Her mother isn't as lucky.Enter Senator Soliday, a.k.a. Bronwyn's estranged father, who shows up at the hospital and takes her home with him, to a family she's never been a part of, to people who have proved again and again they don't want her. Confused, resentful, absolutely raging, Bronwyn enters a world she's never been privy to, while reeling from the news that her mother wasn't killed by the tornado but murdered.Torn between two identities: the daughter of a single drug addict and the middle child of a well-respected senator, Bronwyn is forced to navigate through this new, unfamiliar life alone and with a gut feeling she can't shake.Her mother's killer isn't unfamiliar.