To the Moon and Back

Grief, you see, is a heavy thing. It is heavier than dragging a whale's body up onto the ice, heavier than enduring a winter that lingers past all hope, heavier even than feeling the sky itself pressing down, as if full of words you cannot speak. Most people know how to carry it. They strap it to their backs like a pack of furs. They walk, bent double, until the load lightens. They share the weight with their Neighbours.
They cry. Then, eventually, they stand up straight again. They look at the sun. They say, Life is for the living. But Kissimi was not like most people. Kissimi's heart was not made of muscle and blood, but instead felt like fragile glass and empty echoes. For Selene, safety is a small, quiet place where the door is triple-locked, and the curtains are drawn. Reeling from a traumatic past, she lives in a carefully constructed sanctuary of silence.
But the silence is broken each night by the muffled, terrifying arguments coming from the outside... To the Moon and Back is a heart-wrenching and hopeful story about bereavement, grief and finding your way back home.