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Writers create not so much other worlds as doors. And each reader, opening them, finds himself in his own dimension. As if in the story that the author revealed, and as if in another.
That was the case with Alice Wayne. At once her life shattered into pieces, but from the broken sharp pieces of glass she collected herself and “Theo”. And then she let go of the work, because there is a time to collect thoughts and a time to let go.
Then the book opened to different characters and left its mark - now clearly, now ridiculously awkwardly. The actor, who was lost among the falsehood, returned his voice. The elderly widower, drowning in guilt, managed to swim to the shore of change. The coordinator of intimate scenes finally set the main scene - of her own simple and sensual life. And the lonely teenager found support from those who kept her secret.
Thus, one book influenced a dozen destinies, crossed their stories, and brought them back to the essence that lurks deep in the heart. In the human heart, which is the same size as a fist.