1956, Malibu, California: Something is not right on Paradise Circle. With her name on the Hollywood blacklist and her life on hold, starlet Melanie Cole has little choice in company. There is her next-door neighbor, Elwood, but the screenwriter’s agoraphobia allows for just short chats through open windows. He’s her sole confidante, though, as she and her housekeeper, Eva, an immigrant from war-torn Europe, rarely make conversation. Then one early morning Melanie and Eva spot Elwood’s sister-in-law and caretaker, June, digging in his beloved rose garden. After that they don’t see Elwood at all anymore. Where could a man who never leaves the house possibly have gone?   As they try to find out if something has happened to him, unexpected secrets are revealed among all three women, leading to an alliance that seems the only way for any of them to hold on to what they can still call their own. But it’s a fragile pact and one little spark could send it all up in smoke… Praise for Susan Meissner's A Map to Paradise: “A beautiful journey that explores the price of choices made in the heat of the moment, the importance of second chances, and the power of finding a place to belong.” – Lisa Wingate , #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Book of Lost Friends   " A tale both tender and touching, about three complex and damaged women who despite their outward differences are all searching for that elusive thing called a home." – Kate Quinn , New York Times bestselling author of The Briar Club Susan Meissner is a former managing editor of a weekly newspaper and an award-winning columnist. She is the award-winning author of The Nature of Fragile Things , The Last Year of the War , As Bright as Heaven , A Bridge Across the Ocean , Secrets of a Charmed Life , A Fall of Marigolds , and Stars over Sunset Boulevard , among other novels. 1 The last thing Eva Kruse wanted to do was risk drawing attention to herself, and yet she'd done it anyway. She'd stayed overnight at Melanie Cole's house. Spent hour upon hour there instead of leaving at three in the afternoon as she usually did. Slept in the guest room bed as if an actual guest and not a paid-by-the-hour housekeeper who'd vowed to spend zero extra time at the actress's house. Zero. Yet there she stood, at daybreak in a borrowed nightgown. When Melanie had told Eva she needed her to arrive that morning at six a.m. instead of nine, Eva had explained the best she could manage was a few minutes before eight. The two-bus commute from Los Angeles to Malibu was well over an hour. There was only one bus earlier than the one she picked up in Santa Monica, which still wouldn't get her there in time. "It's just this once," Melanie had pleaded, as though Eva had said instead that she didn't want to start her workday when it was still dark. "I've an important call from the East Coast at seven thirty. I need my breakfast and a good pot of coffee and my dress ironed-even if no one is going to see me. I need to look and feel confident and poised, Eva. It's an extremely important call. I need you to come at six. Please. Just this one time." "I am sorry, Miss Cole. The other bus does not come to my second stop until after seven." Eva had enunciated each word carefully so that her accented English couldn't be misunderstood. She'd hoped the actress would call Marvelous Maids and at last, at last, ask for a different housekeeper-one who had a car or a husband who could drive or who lived closer or who had access to better bus routes. She was being paid at the top level for this posting-the most she'd been paid for any housekeeping job since arriving in America four years earlier. No one quits a plum posting without it raising questions. But if Melanie had asked for another maid, it would've solved all Eva's problems. The most pressing one, anyway. The one that often kept her up at night. "Then just stay over tonight," Melanie had said. "You'll already be here when my alarm goes off in the morning, so you can make sure I get up. It's a very important call." "I don't know . . ." Eva's mind had spun with possible excuses. Staying over was a bad idea if Melanie was being watched. It was probably a bad idea even if she wasn't being watched. Sometimes Eva cried out in her sleep. And not in Polish. "What don't you know?" Melanie had asked, brows knitted. "Is it the money? I'll pay you for the extra hours, even though you're not going to be doing anything while you're sleeping." "No, it is . . ." Eva's voice had fallen away as words for the reason for her hesitancy fought to take shape in her mouth; a reason she had no intention of giving. She shouldn't be working for Melanie Cole, plain and simple. The Hollywood starlet had been suspected of communist ties six months earlier and been blacklisted. No studio, big or little, would hire her now. Melanie Cole didn't need anyone in her orbit who might reinforce the idea that she wasn't a patriot. The actress hadn'