Fragments of the Lost

Description

From the New York Times bestselling author of All the Missing Girls and The Perfect Stranger comes a suspenseful psychological mystery about one girl’s search to uncover the truth behind her ex-boyfriend’s death. Perfect for fans of We Were Liars and 13 Reasons Why.

Jessa Whitworth knew she didn’t belong in her ex-boyfriend Caleb’s room. But she couldn’t deny that she was everywhere–in his photos, his neatly folded T-shirts, even the butterfly necklace in his jeans pocket . . . the one she gave him for safe keeping on that day.

His mother asked her to pack up his things–even though she blames Jessa for his accident. How could she say no? And maybe, just maybe, it will help her work through the guilt she feels about their final moments together.

But as Jessa begins to box up the pieces of Caleb’s life, they trigger memories that make Jessa realize their past relationship may not be exactly as she remembered. And she starts to question whether she really knew Caleb at all. 

Each fragment of his life reveals a new clue that propels Jessa to search for the truth about Caleb’s accident. What really happened on the storm-swept bridge?

Praise for Megan Miranda’s All the Missing Girls:
“This thriller’s all of your fav page-turners (think: Luckiest Girl Alive, The Girl on the Train, Gone Girl) rolled into one.” —TheSkimm

“Fast-paced and frightening.” —Refinery29

“[The] perfect read for thriller fans.” —BustlePRAISE FOR MEGAN MIRANDA

Fragments of the Lost:
“For thriller fans who can’t get enough of the genre.” —Kirkus

“Intoxicating, well crafted, and suspenseful.” —Booklist

“Readers who came for the sad love story will be swept up into the mystery.” —The Bulletin

“An excellent addition to any library where suspense is popular.” —SLJ

“A good fit for readers who enjoyed E. Lockhart’s We Were Liars.” —VOYA

The Safest Lies:
“[A] fast-paced, suspenseful treat.” —PW, Starred review of The Safest Lies

“Positively movie-ready.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Will blow readers’ minds.” —SLJ
 
“Reluctant and voracious readers alike will enjoy the twisty turns present in this mystery.” —VOYA 

“A strong fit for readers who want fast-paced stories about girls learning to fight back.” —The Bulletin
 
“Readers who love a little bit of romance with their thrills and chills will love this new young adult novel.” —Bookish.com

“Recommended for any collection.” —Booklist

Additional Works by Megan Miranda:
“Extremely interesting . . . a novel that will probably be called Hitchcockian.” –New York Times

“Are you paying attention? You’ll need to be; this thriller will test your brain . . . and it’s a page-turner to boot.” —Elle.com

“The archetypal murder mystery, the kind it seems like everyone has been hungry for since Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl and Paula Hawkins’s Girl on the Train.” —Cosmopolitan.comMegan Miranda is the acclaimed author of The Safest Lies and several other novels for young adults, including Come Find Me and Fracture. She is also the New York Times bestselling author of All the Missing Girls and The Perfect Stranger for adults. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and two children. You can follow Megan on Facebook at AuthorMeganMiranda, or on Instagram and Twitter at @MeganLMiranda.There’s no light in the narrow stairway to the third floor. There’s no handrail, either. Just wooden steps and plaster walls that were probably added in an attic renovation long ago. The door above remains shut, but there’s a sliver of light that escapes through the bottom, coming from inside. He must’ve left the window uncovered.
The door looks darker than the walls of the stairway, but it’s hard to tell from this angle, without light, that it’s blue. We painted it during the summer from a half-empty can he’d found in the garage, a color called Rustic Sea.
“A complicated color for a complicated door,” he joked. But it turned out to look more like denim than anything else.
He stepped back after applying the first stroke, wrinkled his nose, wiped the back of his hand against his forehead. “My feelings on this color are also very complicated.”
There was a smudge of Rustic Sea over his left eye. “I love it,” I said.
I reach for the door now, and I can almost smell the fresh paint, feel the summer breeze coming in from the open window to help air it out. We painted it all the way around—front and back and sides—and sometimes, the door still sticks when you pull it open. Like the paint dried too thick, too slowly.
There’s a speck of paint on the silver doorknob that I’ve never noticed before, and it makes me pause. I run my thumb over the roughness of the spot, wondering how I missed this.
I take a slow breath, trying to remember the room before I see it, to prepare.
It’s got four walls, a closet, slanting ceilings before they meet at a flat strip overtop. There’s a fan hanging from the middle of that strip, the kind that rattles when it’s set to the highest speed. Shelves built into the walls on both sides, giving way to a sliding closet door on my left. A single window, on the far wall.
There’s a bed, with a green comforter.
A desk to my right, with a computer monitor on the surface, the tower hidden below.
The walls are gray and the carpet is . . . the carpet is brown. I think. I’m no longer sure. The color blurs and shifts in my mind.
It’s just a room. Any room. Four walls and a ceiling and a fan.
This is what I tell myself before I step inside. This is the whisper I hear in my head as I stand with my hand on the knob, waiting on the top step.
For a moment, I think I hear his footsteps on the other side of the door, but I know this isn’t possible. I picture us sitting across from each other on the floor. My legs, angled between his. 
He leans closer. He’s smiling.
Then I remember: the carpet is beige. The door will squeak as I push it open. The air will be hotter or colder than the rest of the house, depending on the time of year.
All these things I know by heart.
None of this prepares me. 
 US

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