Island of Lost Girls: A Novel by Jennifer McMahon

By Jennifer McMahon

Whereas parked at a gasoline station, Rhonda sees anything so incongruously surreal that in the first place she not often acknowledges it as a criminal offense in development. She watches, unmoving, as an individual wearing a rabbit dress kidnaps a tender woman. Devastated over having performed not anything, Rhonda joins the research. however the nearer she involves deciding upon the abductor, the closer she will get to the troubling fact approximately one other lacking baby: her ally, Lizzy, who vanished years before.

From the writer of the acclaimed Promise to not Tell comes a chilling and enthralling story of shattered innocence, guilt, and supreme redemption.

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Extra resources for Island of Lost Girls: A Novel

Sample text

The scent of nachos teased me. My fingers itched to pick up a ball, to send it flying down the lane. I loved bowling. I just hadn’t done it in weeks…because of him. Of Aaron. This was where we had our first date. Where we were supposed to be having a date. Right now. A sharp pang stabbed my heart and each thud was like a hammer against my chest. How had things gotten so messed up? Before we started dating—and even during—I used to think of him as Heart Stopper; I’d see his smile and my heart would give one solid thump and then poof, stop.

Are you getting a divorce? Are we becoming a statistic? ” My father let out a startled laugh, erasing the seriousness from his face for at least two full seconds. ” He quickly waved his hands. ” I let out a deep breath and sat back down, eyeing them warily. I wasn’t ready to relax just yet. The ‘nothing like that’ left a lot of ground uncovered. For instance, they could tell me I had been adopted or something. ” I asked. I shouldn’t have. As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew it’d been a mistake.

And then I burst into hysterics, laughing and crying at the same time. It was a silver necklace with a pendent. The pendent was…I couldn’t fathom the words. It was a small silver heart. Shooting through the heart was a single arrow, the tip made of a black stone. Onyx. My heart leaped and I wasn’t sure my ribs could contain it long. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed, the word bubbling out of nowhere. ” It was beautiful and ironic. And I didn’t deserve it. ” The words, spoken so softly, hit me like a lead fist and went straight through my chest to my heart.

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