When a brilliant young doctor shows up on her doorstep, promising her that his new research can give her the ability to see for the first time, Helen stubbornly refuses. She has learned not to trust anyone, and to rely only on herself. But Dr. Liam Larson will not take no for an answer. He makes it his personal mission to rescue Helen from her loneliness, and bring joy into her world once more—the joy she has denied herself for so long.
When Helen’s demons come racing back into her life, threatening to rip her apart and destroy the strength she has carefully rebuilt, Liam is the only one who might be able to save her.
Can he reach the broken girl in time, helping her to heal and see the world in a different light? Or will Helen’s grief send her spiraling out of control, lost to him forever?
“I wish Owen would stop babbling so that I could actually talk to you for five minutes,” Liam
muttered. “You’re such an interesting person.”
“Me?” I ask in confusion. “I’m just your average hermit writer.”
“Exactly,” he says. I hear a smile in his voice. “I don’t know too many of those. You’re part of a
very rare species.”
I look down to hide my embarrassment. I can feel him staring at me; the tension is beginning
to grow thick in our small quarters. He is sitting very close to me, even if we are separated by the back
of his seat. When Owen was in the car with us, the atmosphere was light and funny. But now, it’s dark
and intense; it’s laced with something I don’t understand and don’t want to discover. I try to think of
something to say to take his focus away from me and my life. “It’s just a job,” I say dumbly.
He scoffs. “Just a job? Helen, I work with other doctors every day. We heal people, and it should
be glamorous; we should feel like heroes. But in truth, it gets… mechanical. At some point, you start
to question how important your work really is. I mean, you can heal a person’s body… but that doesn’t
really heal the person. We aren’t just bodies, you know? That’s where your books come into play.” He
pauses, and I can feel him giving me an earnest look. “Books are medicine for the soul. They heal the
eternal parts of a person.”
“Liam,” I say in surprise.
“You are a doctor of sorts, too,” he tells me, “except for the fact that your work persists. If a
person reads a good book—they become permanently changed. They can’t even help it. They can’t
unlearn what they’ve learned. It will always be with them. Our bodies all crumble and fade, and we’ll
all eventually lose our eyesight near the end, along with many other basic bodily functions. But I like to
think that even when we’re gone, the soul retains some of that wisdom—some of that feeling. What I do
is simple science, but what you do is… magic.”
“Stop talking,” I whisper. “Seriously, stop talking right now.”
“Why?” he says, somewhat hurt at the interruption.
“Because I’m pretty sure that if you keep talking like this… I’ll have to marry you, or something,”
I explain nervously. “So just zip it.”