For fans of All the Light We Cannot See and The Tattooist of Auschwitz ! From the sandy shores of America to the battered streets of London, one woman's search for love and redemption will defy all odds Young Adelia Monteforte begins the summer of 1941 aboard a crowded ship bound for America, utterly alone yet free of Fascist Italy. Whisked away to the seaside by her well-meaning aunt and uncle, she basks in the noisy affection of the boisterous Irish Catholic boys next door. And although she adores all four of the Connally brothers, it's the eldest, Charlie, she pines for. But all hopes for a future together are throttled by the creep of war and a tragedy that hits much closer to home. Grief-stricken, Addie flees—first to Washington and then to war-torn London, where she finds a position at a prestigious newspaper, as well as a chance for a new beginning. But the past always nips at her heels. And in a final, fateful choice, Addie will discover that the only way home may be a path she never suspected. "The kind of book that absorbs you from the beginning and doesn't let go." —Beatriz Williams, New York Times bestselling author of The Beach at Summerly Don’t miss Pam Jenoff’s new novel, Last Twilight in Paris , a gripping mystery and an unforgettable story about love and survival. Read these other sweeping epics from New York Times bestselling author Pam Jenoff: Code Name Sapphire - The Lost Girls of Paris - The Woman with the Blue Star - The Orphan’s Tale - The Ambassador’s Daughter - The Diplomat’s Wife - The Kommandant’s Girl - The Winter Guest "A beautiful story of love and redemption." -Kristin Hannah, #1 New York Times bestselling author "Heartbreaking, authentic and ultimately uplifting." -Susan Wiggs, #1 New York Times bestselling author "Heartfelt, stirring... Definitely one for my keeper shelf." -Karen White, New York Times bestselling author "I won't soon forget Adelia Montforte... A warm and heartfelt story of emotional survival." -Diane Chamberlain, bestselling author "The kind of book that absorbs you from the beginning and doesn't let go." -Beatriz Williams, New York Times bestselling author Pam Jenoff is the author of several books of historical fiction, including the NYT bestsellers The Lost Girls of Paris and The Woman with the Blue Star . She holds a degree in international affairs from George Washington University and a degree in history from Cambridge, and she received her J.D. from UPenn. She lives with her husband and three children near Philadelphia, where, in addition to writing, she teaches law school. Washington, DC November 1943 I did not fight the umbrella which blew inside out as I stepped from the streetcar. Instead, I clung tighter to my nearly soaked cloche to hold it in place against the icy rain that slanted sideways across Pennsylvania Avenue. Navigating the slick pavement carefully, I swam through the midafternoon crowd, mostly women and a few men too old or broken for service, who were waiting in line at the Red Cross canteen truck for coffee, or making their way between government buildings and the makeshift tent offices that lined the Mall. Brushing the raindrops from my overcoat, I slid under the awning that shielded the security booth outside the Department of State Building, pausing to fumble for my press pass. The guard eyed me incredulously as he scrutinized my credentials. Ignoring him, I gazed up at the White House, pale against the stormy gray clouds. Something moved on the roof above, the swivel of an anti-aircraft gun pointed upward. My heart skipped. Washington was a city occupied not just by the thousands who had come here to work, but by the army that defended it as though the Germans might at any moment descend from the sky. Lowering my eyes, I caught a wistful glimpse of my disheveled reflection in the window of the guard booth. I'd left the rooming house in good form to a sky that, if not sunny, had certainly not suggested this downpour. Arriving at the Post, I expected a day like most I'd had these past few months, typing stories from shorthand notes on a Remington at a desk barely wide enough to hold it, pressed close to a dozen other girls. I didn't mind; I needed work and I was grateful that my high school secretarial course had qualified me for it. Though it would have paid a few dollars more, I had dreaded the prospect of working as one of the government girls at the War Department. I couldn't bear to endlessly type letters telling families that their sons were not coming home, seeing Charlie's face in each of them. During my first few months at the news bureau, the work had been quiet and predictable. But one afternoon nearly two weeks ago, a man with his sleeves rolled up had opened the door to the steno pool. "Italian?" he bellowed. A cloud of cigarette smoke appeared before him as he exhaled, making him seem a gray-haired dragon. The room fell silent. Chip Steeves, managing editor of the Washington