Justine Larbalestier


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Micah is a liar. That's the one thing she won't lie about. Over the years, she's duped her classmates, her teachers, and even her parents. But when her boyfriend Zach dies under brutal circumstances, Micah sets out to tell the truth. At first the truth comes easily-because it is a lie. Other truths are so unbelievable, so outside the realm of normal, they must be a lie. And the honest truth is buried so deep in Micah's mind even she doesn't know if it's real. The ultimate unreliable narrator takes readers on a thrill ride in this highly acclaimed novel. Prepare to grasp for truth until the very last page."Readers will get chills . . . [and] be guessing and theorizing long after they've finished this gripping story." -Publishers Weekly, starred review"[Micah's] suspenseful, supernatural tale is engrossing. … The chilling story she spins will have readers' hearts racing." -School Library Journal, starred review"An engrossing story of teenage life on the margins." -Kirkus Reviews, starred review
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    Rutuja Nemadeje podelio/la utisakпре 2 године
    👍Vredna čitanja
    🎯Vredna čitanja

    I really enjoyed the book I could keep myself in Micah's place and feel the sadness and uncomfortableness given by Sarah

    VeNay Boozerje podelio/la utisakпре 4 године


    greencпре 5 година
    When Zach isn’t in school Tuesday morning I am worried. He said he’d call me Monday night. But didn’t. Friday night was the last time I saw him. That isn’t usual.
    Zachary Rubin is my boyfriend. He isn’t the best boyfriend in the world, but he usually does what he says he will.
    If he was going to skip school he’d have taken me with him. We could’ve gone running in the park. Or ridden around on the subway all day laughing at the crazies, which is mostly everyone.
    Once we walked from the Staten Island Ferry all the way up to Inwood, right next to the big hospital and the bridge that leads to the Bronx. It took us all day. We’d get sidetracked, checking things out, looking around. Enjoying the novelty of walking instead of running.
    Broadway was our path north through the island. Zach said it used to be an Indian trail, which made it the oldest street in Manhattan. That’s why it twists and turns, sometimes on the diagonal, sometimes straight like an avenue.
    Me and Zach had an argument about what the water under the bridge to the Bronx was called. Was it the Hudson or the East River? Or did they meet in the middle under the bridge? Whatever it was called, the water was gray brown and nasty-looking. So it could’ve been either one.
    That was our best day together.
    I hope Zach isn’t doing anything that cool without me. I’ll kill him if he is.
    I eat lunch on my own. A cold steak sandwich. The bread is gray and wet, soggy with meat juice. I eat the steak and throw the

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