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Back When the Stars Go Dark Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Epigraph
  2. Maps
  3. (prologue)
  4. Part 1: Signs and Vapors
  5. (one)
  6. (two)
  7. (three)
  8. (four)
  9. (five)
  10. (six)
  11. (seven)
  12. (eight)
  13. (nine)
  14. (ten)
  15. (eleven)
  16. (twelve)
  17. Part 2: Secret Things
  18. (thirteen)
  19. (fourteen)
  20. (fifteen)
  21. (sixteen)
  22. (seventeen)
  23. (eighteen)
  24. (nineteen)
  25. (twenty)
  26. (twenty-one)
  27. (twenty-two)
  28. (twenty-three)
  29. (twenty-four)
  30. (twenty-five)
  31. (twenty-six)
  32. (twenty-seven)
  33. (twenty-eight)
  34. (twenty-nine)
  35. (thirty)
  36. (thirty-one)
  37. (thirty-two)
  38. (thirty-three)
  39. (thirty-four)
  40. (thirty-five)
  41. (thirty-six)
  42. (thirty-seven)
  43. (thirty-eight)
  44. (thirty-nine)
  45. Part 3: Time and the Maiden
  46. (forty)
  47. (forty-one)
  48. (forty-two)
  49. (forty-three)
  50. (forty-four)
  51. (forty-five)
  52. (forty-six)
  53. (forty-seven)
  54. (forty-eight)
  55. (forty-nine)
  56. (fifty)
  57. (fifty-one)
  58. (fifty-two)
  59. (fifty-three)
  60. Part 4: The Bent Grove
  61. (fifty-four)
  62. (fifty-five)
  63. (fifty-six)
  64. (fifty-seven)
  65. (fifty-eight)
  66. (fifty-nine)
  67. (sixty)
  68. (sixty-one)
  69. (sixty-two)
  70. (sixty-three)
  71. (sixty-four)
  72. (sixty-five)
  73. (sixty-six)
  74. (sixty-seven)
  75. (sixty-eight)
  76. (sixty-nine)
  77. (seventy)
  78. Dedication
  79. (acknowledgments)
  80. (author’s note)
  81. BY PAULA MCLAIN
  82. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

What Frank didn’t know that day—because I’d never been honest with him—was that I wasn’t just involved in my cases, I lived and breathed them. If my level of dedication made me a good detective with a high solve rate, it was also ruining my personal life. Those questions Corolla had asked about sleep, about drinking too much. I hadn’t told the truth that day. I had nightmares consistently and often woke in the middle of the night feeling as if my whole body was buzzing, set on high alert. The minute I walked in the door after work, I had to pour a stiff drink or three just to come down from the intensity of the day. But even when the edge was gone, I couldn’t quite land in my body. I was always thinking about a case, trying to crack an interview or tease out a complex lead, canvassing witnesses in my mind, even in the shower. When Brendan would complain or get mad at me, I would go on the defensive. The truth was I didn’t have any control over my obsession, nor did I have the energy to fight with him. I would never have said it out loud, but he wasn’t my priority.

—

Then things got worse. I had just come off ten weeks of maternity leave when Frank gave my partner and me a particularly tough case—an infant. The father had called it in, thinking drug dealers had kidnapped the boy. They lived in a rough neighborhood. It wasn’t out of the question. Meanwhile the boy was only six months old, and he had seizures, the family reported, something to do with a difficult delivery. He was still on medication and could die without it. Time was ticking as we searched for him, and the stress was getting to me. I kept having dreams about children screaming on the other side of a brick wall. Whole families under water and no way to reach them. During the day, I was edgy and distracted, and Frank noticed.

“I think you need more time off, Anna. I pulled you back in too soon.”

“No, no. I can do this,” I raced to reassure him. “It’s just hormones or something.”

“At least go back to that therapist,” he suggested.

“It’s not necessary.”

“Asking for help doesn’t make you weak, Anna.”

“I know that.”

“Sometimes I wonder,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Baby doing all right?”

“The baby’s fine.” I forced myself to sound cheerful. “We’re all fine.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”