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| Categories | Genre Fiction |
| Author | Kristin Hannah |
| Publisher | Random House Publishing Group; Reprint edition (September 21, 2010) |
| Language | English |
| Paperback | 432 pages |
| Item Weight | 2.31 pounds |
| Dimensions |
5.2 x 0.91 x 8 inches |
I. Book introduction
“Magic Hour” by Kristin Hannah invites readers into the captivating realm of the Pacific Northwest’s Olympic National Forest, a vast landscape of impenetrable darkness and breathtaking beauty. Dr. Julia Cates, a child psychiatrist grappling with her own past, encounters a mysterious six-year-old girl named Alice, setting off a riveting journey of redemption, familial bonds, and the unraveling of dark secrets. As Julia seeks to free Alice from a prison of fear, the narrative unfolds against the backdrop of an intricate and transformative quest, exploring the power of faith, strength, and the magic inherent in the wilderness.
From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Nightingale and The Great Alone comes an incandescent story about the resilience of the human spirit, the triumph of hope, and the meaning of home.
In the rugged Pacific Northwest lies the Olympic National Forest—nearly a million acres of impenetrable darkness and impossible beauty. From deep within this old growth forest, a six-year-old girl appears. Speechless and alone, she offers no clue as to her identity, no hint of her past.
Having retreated to her western Washington hometown after a scandal left her career in ruins, child psychiatrist Dr. Julia Cates is determined to free the extraordinary little girl she calls Alice from a prison of unimaginable fear and isolation. To reach her, Julia must discover the truth about Alice’s past—although doing so requires help from Julia’s estranged sister, a local police officer. The shocking facts of Alice’s life test the limits of Julia’s faith and strength, even as she struggles to make a home for Alice—and for herself.
Editorial Reviews
- “One of [Kristin Hannah’s] most compelling and riveting novels.”—Booklist
- “Hannah has a nice ear for dialogue and a knack for getting the reader inside the characters’ heads.”—The Seattle Times
About Kristin Hannah
Kristin Hannah (born September 25, 1960) is an American writer. Her most notable works include Winter Garden, The Nightingale, Firefly Lane, The Great Alone, and The Four Winds. In 2024, St. Martin’s Publishing Group published her novel, The Women, which is set in America in the 1960s.
Kristin Hannah was born in California. After graduating with a degree in communication from the University of Washington, Hannah worked at an advertising agency in Seattle. She graduated from the University of Puget Sound law school and practiced law in Seattle before becoming a full-time writer. Hannah wrote her first novel with her mother, who was dying of cancer at the time, but the book was never published.
Hannah’s best-selling work, The Nightingale, has sold over 4.5 million copies worldwide and has been published in 45 languages.
Hannah lives on Bainbridge Island, Washington, with her husband and their son.
II. Reviewer: Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah
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1. TOM LEWIS reviews for Magic Hour
Another impossibly beautiful novel by Kristin Hannah. The story follows Julia, a disgraced child psychiatrist living in Malibu, who’s called home to the small forest town of her childhood by her police chief sister, Ellie, to work with a wild feral girl who had been living in the untamed forests of the Pacific Northwest. Everything about this book works perfectly—from the charming warmth of this little town, to the colorful characters and vivid descriptions. Like all of Kristin’s books, you’ll still be thinking about it long after you finish.
2. ELISABETH PLIMPTON reviews for Magic Hour
A truly beautiful story.
Magic Hour tells the story of the two sisters Julia and Ellie who have never been particularly close. Julia is a psychiatrist living in LA. After having been involved in a tragic scandal relating to one of her patients, she feels worn down and torn with what to do next. Ellie lives in the Rain Valley, the small Washington town they grew up in, and works as a police officer. She’s been divorced twice and can’t seem to find what’s missing in her life.
Out of nowhere, a small unspeaking child walks out of the Olympic Forrest. Looking rugged and uncared for, the town works to uncover the young girl’s past and find her parents. Julia is brought in as a doctor to help the child heal and develop. Overtime, Julia forms a strong connection with the girl they name Alice. Can the characters each heal their own past wounds, fight for what’s right, and put the child first? What will become of young Alice?
This novel was gripping from the start. There was a bit of mystery to it. At times it was quite sad but also beautiful and eye-opening. It was fascinating to learn about the child raised in the wild and how she learned to adapt to her new surroundings.
There was an interesting set of characters all with their own obstacles to work through. I appreciated that these side storylines didn’t distract from the main plot but rather added layers to it. The novel was fast-paced and a bit more action-packed rather than character-drama driven. I was eager to read on and find out more.
The story took many interesting and unexpected twists and turns. It was an all-around captivating read and one of my favorite Kristen Hannah books I’ve read in a while. It had a bit of everything including romance, mystery, tragedy, and drama.
The whole story took you for an emotional rollercoaster, and I felt myself tearing up towards the end. The ending felt satisfying with everything resolved. If you enjoy Hannah’s books, I would recommend reading this one. It was a genuinely touching and heart-wrenching story.
3. ALLISON reviews for Magic Hour
I would run to the train after work just so I can sit down and read this book, and I was so sad when it ended. A little girl raised by wolves is rescued in a small town, and she changes people’s lives as she adapts to her new world. Really, really good story!!
4. DALE HARCOMBE reviews for Magic Hour
Four and a half stars.
From within the Olympic National Forest, a young girl of six appears with a wolf cub. She is mute, except for the animal sounds and howling she makes. Her movements and behaviour are also like that of a wild animal. Who is she and how did she arrive in the town of Rain Valley? And how can she be helped?
Ellie, who is chief of police, needs help and she knows just who to call on. Her sister Julia. Julia is a psychiatrist battling her own demons after her life imploded, when a patient of hers killed others before taking her own life. Julia feels immense guilt exacerbated by the publicity these events have received. After retreating to her home town the last thing she needs is more publicity, but she cannot ignore Ellie’s plea for help. The child has obviously been the victim of severe abuse. Julia agrees to start working with the girl, naming her Alice. But can she help or will she end up doing more harm? And why have no parents stepped forward to claim the child?
The further I read this book, the more it captured my attention and emotions. If you can get through it without tears you are better than me. Towards the end it becomes very emotive. The characters absolutely came to life and captured me. An enthralling read, perhaps a bit improbable but I didn’t care, I loved it. It also contains a romance or two.
5. STEPHANIE reviews for Magic Hour
Good, too tied up in ribbons at the end
Well written sentence by sentence. Good command of the English language and almost a good story. It was too pat, too predictable. Some of the behaviors of the characters did not ring true. Spoiler alert. Alice’s father would not have taken her home after watching the tapes. Nor we he have stayed out of her life after that. Given what we were led to believe about his feelings for the child, he would have arranged visitation. That would not have hurt Alice at all if he never took her home. Next, Ellie was way to dense about Cal. Lastly, I did not like the epilogue, the quick perfect moments for EVERYONE. Too sugary. We could have left the story with them still working it out. I loved all of the scenes with Alice. I liked that they learned her story. I loved her teaching/ therapy.
6. VAL MILLS reviews for Magic Hour
Writing Magic, that’s what Kristen Hannah does. I know her, mostly,from her more recent books and her superb writing, compelling characters, and creative plots that have drawn me in to eternal fandom. I’ve decided to go back and read every single thing she’s written. This story about a young child kidnapped, shackled and living in a remote forest, with wolves and other wild animals as her only companions is tragic, but an ultimately triumphant experience of the power of the human spirit to survive the unthinkable, and then finally thrive under the loving guidance of a loving and trustworthy adult. Little Alice, the “wild girl”, was so astutely created and developed, as was her progression through the pains, sorrows and fears toward the slow revelation that the world could possibly be a good place, and she might be a “good girl”. We saw the progression and growth of every character in this novel. Ten stars in my eyes!
7. JGREY reviews for Magic Hour
Couldn’t put this book down!
This is my 3rd Kristen Hannah book in the last few weeks and so far I have loved all of them. She does a lot of research to make sure her fiction could be accurate and her characters are always well developed. This book was my favorite as it discusses a difficult child custody case and as a parent that has been through one of those, it was very accurate to real court proceeding. It also nailed the emotions that you feel as a parent with the possibility of losing a child. Awesome book! 5-⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
8. CAL FROM NJ reviews for Magic Hour
Strongest love — a mother’s
This story captures the precious, immeasurable love of a mother for the non-biological, innocent, injured, and vulnerable child whom she embraces as and for her own purpose in life. I was a scared throughout the read, as that child was in the story, yet strengthened by the dedication of her loving protector.
This realistically written novel is among the most memorable of my 81 years. Caring for and loving the most precious gift of life, children, is possibly the greatest challenge for a continued civilized life.
9. LISA GARDNER reviews for Magic Hour
I’m a huge fan of Kristin Hannah; WINTERS GARDEN and THE NIGHTINGALE are two of my all-time favorite novels. Somehow I missed MAGIC HOUR the first time around, but picked it up last week from my local bookstore. What a beautiful novel! The characters are complex and compelling. From the first page you are captivated by Alice, an obviously abused and feral little girl, venturing out of the deep woods for the first time, her wolf pup clutched close. I read the first half of the novel in a single sitting, staying up well past my bed time and happy I did so. Couldn’t wait to get back to it the next day. I love novels with characters you genuinely care about and root for. MAGIC HOURS captures an entire small town that feels like home. Thank you, Hannah, for another great read!
10. KAYLA reviews for Magic Hour
I read this book about a year ago and didn’t realise that I never wrote a review on it.
Julia Cates loved her job as a child psychologist, but a horrible tragedy has made her business plummet drastically. When Julia is ready to throw in the towel she gets a strange call from her sister, Ellie, who is a police officer in a small town. Ellie says there’s a wild looking child found in a tree and the people in the town can’t get her down and they think Julia could really help her. So Julia packs up and heads to this town for a journey she never would have expected.
This book was so beautiful and so touching I instantly fell in love with it. It’s a short, fast, and easy read and once I started reading it I didn’t want to put it down. This book is one of my favorites, it had me laughing and crying and itching to keep reading more and more. I loved the characters, they were very well written and the story line tugged at my heart strings to the point I just wanted to adopt this child. Kristin Hannah is such an amazing author and did an absolutely amazing job on writing this book. I recommend this book to everyone who’s looking for a heart warming and loving contemporary read.
III. Magic Hour Quotes by Kristin Hannah
The best book quotes from Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah
“The modern world no longer believed in senseless tragedy. Bad things couldn’t just happen to people; someone had to pay.”
“Don’t take peace for granted, he’d said to her often. It can shatter like glass.”
“A story is only sad if there’s no happy ending. I guess I always believe in that ending.”
“It was the Magic Hour, the moment in time when every leaf and blade of grass seemed to separate, when sunlight, burnished by the rain and softened by the coming night, gave the world an impossibly beautiful glow.”
“Girls like you can’t understand,” Julia said, and it was true. Ellie had been popular. She didn’t know that some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime.”
“She didn’t know that some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime.”
“Alice started to cry. It came with no sound, no shuddering, no childlike hysterics, just a soul-deep release that turned into moisture and dripped down her puffy pink cheeks. She touched her tears, frowning. Then she looked up at Julia and whimpered two words before she fell asleep. ‘Real hurts.’”
“Lately he’d been seen going out less and less, becoming that strangest of animals in a small town: a loner.”
“Love rips the shit out of you and puts you back together like a broken toy, with all kinds of cracks and edges. It’s not about the falling in love. It’s about the landing, the staying where you said you’d be and working to keep the love strong.”
“Rain Valley newcomers pretty much fell into two groups: people running away from something and people running away from everything.”
“Lost is lost; it’s when you want someone to hold you but there is no one who can. Lost is alone, even when people are all around you.”
“What did she wish? She didn’t know. When she thought about it, that was the problem with her life, now and always, she’d never known what to wish for until it was too late.”
“Don’t take peace for granted. It can shatter like glass.”
“Life was impossibly fragile. If you were lucky enough to have a loving family, you had to hold onto them with infinite”
“I don’t know how romantic I am, but I only know one way to love…All the way. When I love, I risk my heart. All or nothing.”
“Love rips the shit out of you and puts you back together like a broken toy, with all kinds of cracks and jagged edges. It’s not about the falling in love. It’s about the landing,”
“Yesterday I was worried about a lot of things. Today I know what matters.”
“As she neared her destination, she took her glasses off. She hadn’t come to the point where she trusted the world as seen through a lens.”
“story is only sad if there’s no happy ending. I guess I always believe in that ending.”
“In small towns, the social dynamic was like concrete; it set early and hard.”
“Love rips the shit out of you and puts you back together like a broken toy, with all kinds of cracks and jagged edges. It’s not about the falling in love. It’s about the landing where you said you’d be and working to keep that love strong.’ ”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.” “Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit. “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. —The Velveteen Rabbit Margery Williams”
“Sometimes a mood changes on its own… Sometimes it needs a shove.”
“Girls like you can’t understand,” Julia said, and it was true. Ellie had been popular. She didn’t know that some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime. The”
“She was feeling too much right now, and that was dangerous. Being a good psychiatrist was like reading a novel at forty. You needed to keep the words at arm’s length or everything became a blur.”
“hidden from her. Still, the air is lighted and bright.”
“Perhaps she was looking at the other side of fear. What happened to a child when fear had been the norm forever … did it melt into watchfulness?”
“Most of the documented cases had two things in common. First, the children possessed the physical ability to speak, but never acquired actual language to any great degree. Secondly, almost all of these former wild children lived out their lives in mental institutions, forgotten and alone. Only two cases, Memmie and a Ugandan boy found living among the monkeys in 1991, ever truly learned to speak and function in society, and Memmie still died penniless and alone, forgotten. She had never been able to tell people what had happened to her in her youth, how she’d ended up in the dark woods”
“some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime.”
“He was an imposing man, tall and almost elegantly thin, with hair that was going from black to gray in perfect order, sideburns first.”
“Don’t take peace for granted, he’d said to her often. It can shatter like glass.”
“any house they’d chosen would have become the very thing they sought”
“For all he knew, he was the first person to climb this jutting, dangerous slab of rock. That was what he loved about this sport. When you were high above the world, anchored to a bit of stone by a piece of metal and your own courage, there was no outside world. No worries, no stresses, no memories of what you’d lost. There was only the extreme beauty, the solitude, and the risk. He loved that most of all: the risk. There was nothing like imminent danger to make a man know he was alive.”
“It was Magic Hour, the moment in time when every leaf and blade of grass seemed separate, when sunlight, burnished by the rain and softened by the coming night, gave the world an impossibly beautiful glow.”
“Love rips the shit out of you and puts you back together like a broken toy, with all kinds of cracks and jagged edges. It’s not about the falling in love. It’s about the landing, the staying where you said you’d be and working to keep the love strong.”
Excerpted from Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah
ONE
It will all be over soon.
Julia Cates had lost count of the times she’d told herself that very thing, but today–finally–it would be true. In a few hours the world would know the truth about her.
If she made it downtown, that was. Unfortunately, the Pacific Coast Highway looked more like a parking lot than a freeway. The hills behind Malibu were on fire again; smoke hung above the rooftops and turned the normally bright coastal air into a thick brown sludge. All over town terrified babies woke in the middle of the night, crying gray-black tears and gasping for breath. Even the surf seemed to have slowed down, as if exhausted by the unseasonable heat.
She maneuvered through the cranky, stop-and-go traffic, ignoring the drivers who flipped her off and cut in front of her. It was expected; in this most dangerous of seasons in Southern California, tempers caught fire as easily as backyards. The heat made everyone edgy.
Finally, she exited the freeway and drove to the courthouse.
Television vans were everywhere. Dozens of reporters huddled on the courthouse steps, microphones and cameras at the ready, waiting for the story to arrive. In Los Angeles it was becoming a daily event, it seemed; legal proceedings as entertainment. Michael Jackson. Courtney Love. Robert Blake.
Julia turned a corner and drove to a side entrance, where her lawyers were waiting for her.
She parked on the street and got out of the car, expecting to move forward confidently, but for a terrible second she couldn’t move. You’re innocent, she reminded herself. They’ll see that. The system will work. She forced herself to take a step, then another. It felt as if she were moving through invisible wires, fighting her way uphill. When she made it to the group, it took everything she had to smile, but one thing she knew: it looked real. Every psychiatrist knew how to make a smile look genuine.
“Hello, Dr. Cates,” said Frank Williams, the lead counsel on her defense team. “How are you?”
“Let’s go,” she said, wondering if she was the only one who heard the wobble in her voice. She hated that evidence of her fear. Today, of all days, she needed to be strong, to show the world that she was the doctor they’d thought she was, that she’d done nothing wrong.
The team coiled protectively around her. She appreciated their support. Although she was doing her best to appear professional and confident, it was a fragile veneer. One wrong word could strip it all away.
They pushed through the doors and walked into the courthouse.
Flashbulbs erupted in spasms of blue-white light. Cameras clicked; tape rolled. Reporters surged forward, all yelling at once.
“Dr. Cates! How do you feel about what happened?”
“Why didn’t you save those children?”
“Did you know about the gun?”
Frank put an arm around Julia and pulled her against his side. She pressed her face against his lapel and let herself be pulled along.
In the courtroom, she took her place at the defendant’s table. One by one the team rallied around her. Behind her, in the first row of gallery seating, several junior associates and paralegals took their places.
She tried to ignore the racket behind her; the doors creaking open and slamming shut, footsteps hurrying across the marble tiled floor, whispered voices. Empty seats were filling up quickly; she knew it without turning around. This courtroom was the Place to Be in Los Angeles today, and since the judge had disallowed cameras in the courtroom, journalists and artists were no doubt packed side by side in the gallery, their pens ready.
In the past year, they’d written an endless string of stories about her. Photographers had snapped thousands of pictures of her–taking out the trash, standing on her deck, coming and going from her office. The least flattering shots always made the front page.
Reporters had practically set up camp outside her condo, and although she had never spoken to them, it didn’t matter. The stories kept coming. They reported on her small-town roots, her stellar education, her pricey beachfront condo, her devastating breakup with Philip. They even speculated that she’d recently become either anorexic or addicted to liposuction. What they didn’t report on was the only part of her that mattered: her love of her job. She had been a lonely, awkward child, and she remembered every nuance of that pain. Her own youth had made her an exceptional psychiatrist.
Of course, that bit of truth had never made it to press. Neither had a list of all the children and adolescents she’d helped.
A hush fell over the courtroom as Judge Carol Myerson took her seat at the bench. She was a stern-looking woman with artificially bright auburn hair and old-fashioned eyeglasses.
The bailiff called out the case.
Julia wished suddenly that she had asked someone to join her here today, some friend or relative who would stand by her, maybe hold her hand when it was over, but she’d always put work ahead of socializing. It hadn’t given her much time to devote to friends. Her own therapist had often pointed out this lack in her life; truthfully, until now, she’d never agreed with him.
Beside her, Frank stood. He was an imposing man, tall and almost elegantly thin, with hair that was going from black to gray in perfect order, sideburns first. She’d chosen him because of his brilliant mind, but his demeanor was likely to matter more. Too often in rooms like this it came down to form over substance.
“Your Honor,” he began in a voice as soft and persuasive as any she’d ever heard, “the naming of Dr. Julia Cates as a defendant in this lawsuit is absurd. Although the precise limits and boundaries of confidentiality in psychiatric situations are often disputed, certain precedents exist, namely Tarasoff v. Regents of University of California. Dr. Cates had no knowledge of her patient’s violent tendencies and no information regarding specific threats to named individuals. Indeed, no such specific knowledge is even alleged in the complaint. Thus, we respectfully request that she be dismissed from this lawsuit. Thank you.” He sat down.
At the plaintiff’s table, a man in a jet-black suit stood up. “Four children are dead, Your Honor. They will never grow up, never leave for college, never have children of their own. Dr. Cates was Amber Zuniga’s psychiatrist. For three years Dr. Cates spent two hours a week with Amber, listening to her problems and prescribing medications for her growing depression. Yet with all that intimacy, we are now to believe that Dr. Cates didn’t know that Amber was becoming increasingly violent and depressed. That she had no warning whatsoever that her patient would buy an automatic weapon and walk into her church youth group meeting and start shooting.” The lawyer walked out from behind the table and stood in the middle of the courtroom.
Slowly, he turned to face Julia. It was the money shot; the one that would be drawn by every artist in the courtroom and shown around the world, “She is the expert, Your Honor. She should have foreseen this tragedy and prevented it by warning the victims or committing Ms. Zuniga for residential treatment. If she didn’t in fact know of Ms. Zuniga’s violent tendencies, she should have. Thus, we respectfully seek to keep Dr. Cates as a named defendant in this case. It is a matter of justice. The slain children’s families deserve redress from the person most likely to have foreseen and prevented the murder of their children.” He went back to the table and took his seat.
“It isn’t true,” Julia whispered, knowing her voice couldn’t be heard. Still, she had to say it out loud. Amber had never even hinted at violence. Every teenager battling depression said they hated the kids in their school. That was light-years away from buying a gun and opening fire.
Why couldn’t they all see that?
Judge Myerson read over the paperwork in front of her. Then she took off her reading glasses and set them down on the hard wooden surface of her bench.
The courtroom fell into silence. Julia knew that the journalists were ready to write instantly. Outside, there were more of them standing by, ready to run with two stories. Both headlines were already written. All they needed was a sign from their colleagues inside.
The children’s parents, huddled in the back rows in a mournful group, were waiting to be assured that this tragedy could have been averted, that someone in a position of authority could have kept their children alive. They had sued everyone for wrongful death–the police, the paramedics, the drug manufacturers, the medical doctors, and the Zuniga family. The modern world no longer believed in senseless tragedy. Bad things couldn’t just happen to people; someone had to pay. The victims’ families hoped that this lawsuit would be the answer, but Julia knew it would only give them something else to think about for a while, perhaps distribute some of their pain. It wouldn’t alleviate it, though. The grief would outlive them all.
The judge looked at the parents first. “There is no doubt that what happened on February nineteenth at the Baptist church in Silverwood was a terrible tragedy. As a parent myself, I cannot fathom the world in which you have lived for the past months. However, the question before this court is whether Dr. Cates should remain a defendant in this case.” She folded her hands on the desk. “I am persuaded that as a matter of law, Dr. Cates had no duty to warn or otherwise protect the victims in this set of circumstances. I reach this conclusion for several reasons. First, the facts do not assert and the plaintiffs do not allege that Dr. Cates had any specific knowledge of identifiable potential victims; second, the law does not impose a duty to warn except to clearly identifiable victims; and finally, as a matter of public policy, we must maintain the confidentiality of the psychiatrist-patient relationship unless there is a specific, identifiable threat which warrants the undermining of that confidentiality. Dr. Cates, by her testimony and her records and pursuant to the plaintiffs’ own assertions, did not have a duty to warn or otherwise protect the victims in this case. Thus, I am dismissing her from the complaint, without prejudice.”
The gallery went crazy. Before she knew it, Julia was on her feet and enfolded in congratulatory hugs by her defense team. Behind her, she could hear the journalists running for the doors and down the marble hallway. “She’s out!” someone yelled.
Julia felt a wave of relief. Thank God.
Then she heard the children’s parents crying behind her.
“How can this be happening?” one of them said loudly. “She should have known.”
Frank touched her arm. “You should be smiling. We won.”
She shot a quick glance at the parents, then looked away. Her thoughts trailed off into the dark woods of regret. Were they right? Should she have known?
“It wasn’t your fault, and it’s time you told people that. This is your opportunity to speak up, to–”
A crowd of reporters swarmed them.
“Dr. Cates! What do you have to say to the parents who hold you responsible–”
“Will other parents trust you with their children–”
“Can you comment on the report that the Los Angeles District Attorney’s Office has taken your name off the roster of forensic psychiatrists?”
Frank stepped into the fray, reaching back for Julia’s hand. “My client was just released from the lawsuit–”
“On a technicality,” someone yelled.
While they were focused on Frank, Julia slipped to the back of the crowd and ran for the door. She knew Frank wanted her to make a statement, but she didn’t care. She didn’t feel triumphant. All she wanted was to be away from all this . . . to get back to real life.
The Zunigas were standing in front of the door, blocking her path. They were paler versions of the couple she’d once known. Grief had stripped them of color and aged them.
Mrs. Zuniga looked up at her through tears.
“She loved both of you,” Julia said softly, knowing it wasn’t enough. “And you were good parents. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. Amber was ill. I wish–”
“Don’t,” Mr. Zuniga said. “Wishing hurts most of all.” He put an arm around his wife and drew her close to him.
Silence fell between them. Julia tried to think of more to say, but all that was left was I’m sorry, which she’d said too many times to count, and “Good-bye.” Holding her purse close, she eased around them, then left the courthouse.
Outside, the world was brown and bleak. A thick layer of smoke darkened the sky, obliterating the sun, matching her mood.
She got into her car and drove away. As she merged into traffic, she wondered if Frank had even noticed her absence. To him it was a game, albeit with the biggest stakes, and as the day’s winner, he would be flying high. He would think about the victims and their families, probably tonight in his den, after a few Dewar’s over ice. He would think about her, too, perhaps wonder what would become of a psychiatrist who’d so profoundly compromised her reputation with failure, but he wouldn’t think about them all for long. He didn’t dare.
She was going to have to put it behind her now, too. Tonight she’d lay in her lonely bed, listening to the surf, thinking how much it sounded like the beat of her heart, and she’d try again to get beyond her grief and guilt. She had to figure out what clue she’d missed, what sign she’d overlooked. It would hurt–remembering–but in the end she’d be a better therapist for all this pain. And then, at seven o’clock in the morning, she’d get dressed and go back to work.
Helping people.
That was how she’d get through this.
Girl crouches at the edge of the cave, watching water fall from the sky. She wants to reach for one of the empty cans around her, maybe lick the insides again, but she has done this too many times already. The food is gone. It has been gone for more moons than she knows how to keep track of. Behind her the wolves are restless, hungry.
The sky grumbles and roars. The trees shake with fear, and still the water drips down.
She falls asleep.
She wakes suddenly and looks around, sniffing the air. There is a strange scent in the darkness. It should frighten her, send her back into the deep, black hole, but she can’t quite move. Her stomach is so tight and empty it hurts.
The falling water isn’t so angry now; it is more of a spitting. She wishes she could see the sun.
….
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