"On n'est pas dans le futurisme, mais dans un drame bourgeois ou un thriller atmosphérique"
I remember Sarah. She was funny and happy and her voice went croaky when she was excited. I loved her more than anything. But she died before I ever really knew her: she was twenty-six. She was my mother.
Rain Lindsay is spending her first summer away from her father at her grandmother's large house in London.
London is scary and exciting - just like Harry, a student who is helping her grandmother renovate the house. Slowly their suspicion of each other lessens as Harry helps Rain discover more about her dead mother, whose diary Rain finds in her old bedroom. A diary that reveals some unsettling secrets . . .
An utterly compelling story of a girl on the brink of love and adulthood.
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"On n'est pas dans le futurisme, mais dans un drame bourgeois ou un thriller atmosphérique"
L'auteur se glisse en reporter discret au sein de sa propre famille pour en dresser un portrait d'une humanité forte et fragile
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