Safe with Me
A Novel
(Sprache: Englisch)
A "compelling and thought-provoking" (Kristin Hannah) novel about two mothers and one daughter who are linked by tragedy and bound by secrets, from the acclaimed author of Heart Like Mine.
The screech of tires brought Hannah Scott's world as she...
The screech of tires brought Hannah Scott's world as she...
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A "compelling and thought-provoking" (Kristin Hannah) novel about two mothers and one daughter who are linked by tragedy and bound by secrets, from the acclaimed author of Heart Like Mine.The screech of tires brought Hannah Scott's world as she knew it to a devastating end. A year after she signed the papers to donate her daughter's organs, Hannah is still reeling with grief when she unexpectedly stumbles into the life of the Bell family, whose fifteen-year-old daughter, Maddie, survived only because Hannah's daughter had died. Mesmerized by this fragile connection to her own daughter and afraid to reveal who she actually is, Hannah develops a surprising friendship with Maddie's mother, Olivia.
The Bells, however, have problems of their own. Once on the verge of leaving her wealthy but abusive husband, Olivia now finds herself bound to him in the wake of the transplant that saved their daughter's life. Meanwhile, Maddie, tired of the limits her poor health puts upon her and fearful of her father's increasing rage, regularly escapes into the one place where she can be anyone she wants: the Internet. But when she is finally healthy enough to return to school, the real world proves to be just as complicated as the isolated bubble she had been so eager to escape.
A masterful narrative shaped by nuanced characters whose delicate bonds are on a collision course with the truth, Safe with Me is a riveting triumph.
Lese-Probe zu „Safe with Me “
Safe with Me Hannah The first thing Hannah hears is Emily's soul-piercing scream. Next, the grinding screech of brakes and the sharp crunch as metals collide. The sounds twirl toward her in slow motion-still-frame, auditory blips. But then, in an instant, they stitch together into an image. Into a truth that steals her breath.
Oh, holy god.
She shoves back from her desk and races down the stairway, stumbling out the door and into the yard. With a wild-eyed gaze she sees it: the car she heard-a red convertible Mustang, top down, the engine still running. In front of it lies her daughter's purple, glittering ten-speed. The handlebars are twisted and broken, the black tires torn right off the wheels. Someone screams and it takes a moment for Hannah to realize that it is her. The sound slices up through her throat like a spinning blade as she runs over to Emily, whose small body was flung from the crash. Her twelve-year-old daughter is splayed upon the blacktop, arms and legs turned at strange angles from her torso. Blood trickles down her forehead from an injury on her scalp. Her mouth is open, her eyes closed.
She wasn't wearing her helmet. Oh god oh god oh god.
"Call 911!" Hannah shrieks. "Somebody, please, call them!" She is vaguely aware that her neighbors have rushed from their houses, too.
"I didn't see her!" a woman cries. She is standing next to the car, hands clutching the sides of her blond head. "She shot out from the driveway! I didn't have time to stop!" The woman is hysterical . . . sobbing, but Hannah doesn't care. She drops down next to Emily, scraping her knuckles raw as she lifts her daughter from the rough pavement, gathering her child to her chest the way she did when Emily was still a baby, their hearts pressed together in sweet, synchronized beats.
"Mama's here," Hannah says, her mouth against her daughter's dark, damp hair. "Don't you worry. Mama's right here." Emily is limp, unmoving.
A small gathering of people
... mehr
creates a protective circle around them both. It is a hot, sunny Saturday in late July. A day for barbecues and picnics, for Popsicles and campfires and s'mores. This can't be happening. It can't be. She's all I have. Nothing else matters. Just her.
Their next-door neighbor, Mr. Blake, sinks to his knees beside Hannah and slips an arm around her. "The ambulance is coming," he says. "Maybe you shouldn't move her."
Hannah ignores him. "She's going to be okay," she murmurs. "She has to be." She clutches Emily tighter.
After a few minutes that feel more like hours, like decades, a siren whines in the distance, growing louder as it draws close. It isn't fast enough. Mr. Blake places two of his gnarled fingers on Emily's throat, and Hannah's first instinct is to yank her away, to protect her daughter from any more possible harm, but then she realizes what he's trying to do.
"She has a pulse," he says. "It's weak, but it's there."
Hannah nods, her lips pressed together so hard she can't feel them. She can't feel anything. The inside of her skull is a beehive someone just kicked. She can't form a thought. There is only the buzzing . . . the one word in her head, one incantation, one prayer.
She closes her eyes and whispers the word please.
- - -
Hannah waits. She sits in the emergency room, gripping the edge of her chair, her arms stiff and straight, her body rocking forward and back in small, measured movements. The space bustles with a state of urgency: nurses in brightly patterned smocks and sensible white shoes jog down the hallways; an aide rushes past with an empty gurney. The air, thick with antiseptic and sweat, tickles the back of Hannah's throat; she's afraid she might vomit. Patients cry out, phones ring, doctors are
Their next-door neighbor, Mr. Blake, sinks to his knees beside Hannah and slips an arm around her. "The ambulance is coming," he says. "Maybe you shouldn't move her."
Hannah ignores him. "She's going to be okay," she murmurs. "She has to be." She clutches Emily tighter.
After a few minutes that feel more like hours, like decades, a siren whines in the distance, growing louder as it draws close. It isn't fast enough. Mr. Blake places two of his gnarled fingers on Emily's throat, and Hannah's first instinct is to yank her away, to protect her daughter from any more possible harm, but then she realizes what he's trying to do.
"She has a pulse," he says. "It's weak, but it's there."
Hannah nods, her lips pressed together so hard she can't feel them. She can't feel anything. The inside of her skull is a beehive someone just kicked. She can't form a thought. There is only the buzzing . . . the one word in her head, one incantation, one prayer.
She closes her eyes and whispers the word please.
- - -
Hannah waits. She sits in the emergency room, gripping the edge of her chair, her arms stiff and straight, her body rocking forward and back in small, measured movements. The space bustles with a state of urgency: nurses in brightly patterned smocks and sensible white shoes jog down the hallways; an aide rushes past with an empty gurney. The air, thick with antiseptic and sweat, tickles the back of Hannah's throat; she's afraid she might vomit. Patients cry out, phones ring, doctors are
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Autoren-Porträt von Amy Hatvany
Amy Hatvany is the author of nine novels, including It Happens All the Time, Somewhere Out There, and A Casual Encounter. She lives in Seattle, Washington with her family.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Amy Hatvany
- 2014, 352 Seiten, Maße: 13,4 x 20,9 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Atria Books
- ISBN-10: 1476704414
- ISBN-13: 9781476704418
- Erscheinungsdatum: 07.09.2015
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
"A deftly crafted story... Hatvany compels readers to examine a diverse number of issues-death, organ donation, single parenthood, abuse, self-respect-and handles each topic with sensitivity and compassion." Kirkus on Safe With Me
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