By Christina Baker Kline
From the number 1 New York Times bestselling writer of Orphan educate, and the severely acclaimed writer of how lifestyles may still Be, comes a singular in regards to the offerings we make, how they form our lives, and the way they could switch them forever—includes a unique playstation part that includes insights, interviews, and more.
Four humans, marriages, one lifelong friendship: every thing is set to change.
It used to be darkish. It used to be raining. It was once simply an accident. at the force domestic from an extraordinary night out, Alison collides with one other vehicle working a cease signal, and—just like that—her existence turns upside down.
When she calls her husband from the police station, his accusatory tone unearths cracks of their courting she’d by no means spotted have been there. Now she notices everything. And she starts to gain that the lifestyles she conscientiously developed for herself is as tenuous as a home of playing cards. Exquisitely written, strong, and exciting, Bird in Hand is a unique approximately love and friendship and betrayal, and in regards to the secrets and techniques we inform ourselves and every other.
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Additional info for Bird in Hand
Craning her neck to look out the windshield, she saw a street sign—Saw Hill Road—and reported this. “Hold on,” the operator said. “Okay, you’re in Sherman. ” “Please tell them to hurry,” Alison said. She called her husband from the hospital and told him about the accident, about the car being totaled and her injured wrist, but she didn’t tell him that all around her doctors and nurses were barking orders and the swinging doors were banging open and shut, and a small boy was at the center of it, a small boy with a broken skull and a blood-spattered T-shirt.
Don’t be so dramatic, Charlie. ” She laughed. “Stop. ” He had promised, but she wasn’t sure she believed him. This would be the first time the four of them would be in a room together since that night out in Rockwell, three months ago. Once or twice in the past few months Ben had remarked that they hadn’t seen much of Alison and Charlie; but everyone was busy, and it didn’t seem particularly strange. The falling-out with Alison, Claire had to admit, made it easier to do what they were doing.
She could see a bar at the far end of the living room, set against the panoramic backdrop of the East River, with a young man in a starched white shirt with rolled-up sleeves mixing drinks. Several fresh-faced women—moonlighting college students, Alison suspected—were circulating trays of teeny-tiny brightly colored hors d’oeuvres. The crowd was dense and animated, densely animated; for a moment Alison saw it as one breathing organism. She shook her head, dispelling the illusion. That was an old trick from childhood, a way to transform an intimidating situation into something remote and featureless that she could observe from a distance.