I don’t know why I torture myself by reading a novel from Anne Rivers Siddon. I can’t figure out who her audience is nor her style. I bought this book purely on the cover hoping it would be somewhat interesting. I was wrong. It was more like a car wreck. You know the kind where you stop traffic and you just have to stare at it. Unfortunately I had to keep on reading it.Honestly, I didn’t get it, except for the fact it was death. Death of the main character’s two loves of her life. The way that Ms. Rivers Siddon wove the story I couldn’t tell which parts were real, which were dreams and which were…well, I don’t know what.This was not a good read and I will probably not pick up another one of her books again.