Beatrice Wren can be summed up in three words: reclusive, eccentric, hoarder. People lie, so she avoids them. Objects, however, whisper peculiar truths only she can hear.
When a porcelain figurine reveals flashes of a harrowing murder, Beatrice is drawn from the sanctuary of her hoard — her only tether to stability — and into the shadowy streets of Victorian London. One forgotten object leads to another, and she soon finds herself on the trail of grisly, unsolved murders.
But as the whispers grow darker and more insistent, Beatrice's fragile grip on reality slips and she has to ask herself if she’s hunting a killer or only imagining him.
The truth she seeks may be buried in her own fractured memories. Memories someone wants to stay forgotten.
