If You Find Me(74)

I don’t remember Melissa greeting us in the driveway, nor my dad carrying me up the stairs to my room, taking off my coat and shoes, hat and mittens before slipping me under the covers and leaving me to a dreamless sleep.

I just know when I wake to the roosters crowing and the sun warming my cheeks, everything has changed.

I told.

And it’s only the beginning.





Acknowledgments


A book is a living, breathing thing. It spends the first chapters of its life curled up in the mind, symbiotic with its creator as it grows fat and round. And then the book is born. If you’re lucky like me, by the time you turn the pages for the first time, your book will have been cradled by many sets of careful, talented, and capable hands.

To my amazing agent, Mandy Hubbard, thank you for too many things to list, and most of all, for believing in this book. I’m so glad our stars aligned, and I feel lucky for it every day. Bob Diforio, you’ve been a kind and guiding light through the entire process. Words don’t suffice.

For my editor, Jennifer Weis, and assistant editor, Mollie Traver, much appreciation for steering me through this process with precision and enthusiasm, and for honoring me with a true collaboration. My copy editor, Carol Edwards, made the novel sing with her deft touch. My deepest gratitude to everyone at St. Martin’s who had a hand in this book from start to finish. It truly takes a village.

Tasha Harlow, my fellow fearless flower, and Cate Peace, thank you for first reads and eagle eyes and pom-poms flying. Big thanks to all my writing friends across the Internet—speznas, caw caws, heart-shaped pupils, and lucky black cats to all of you.

To the agents and editors who cared along the way, and who go out of their way to help aspiring authors find their way, I owe you a debt of gratitude. For the love of books, go we.

For Piggy, who never hesitated to leave the warm spot on the bed to "come help with the book” in his loving terrier way, keeping me company from my lap as I pounded the keys into the wee hours of the morning, you and me, buddy. You and me.

To my husband, Jack, goes my love. Your unwavering encouragement and support have been the truest gifts. Thank you for believing that anything is possible . . . even castles in the air . . . especially castles in the air.