Where We Are
(Sprache: Englisch)
From New York Times bestselling author Alison McGhee comes a stunning and heartbreaking story of two teens who fight to reunite when one of them is caught in the web of a sinister cult.
Micah and Sesame are true best friends. They safeguard each...
Micah and Sesame are true best friends. They safeguard each...
Jetzt vorbestellen
Buch (Gebunden)
24,10 €
-
30 Tage kostenlose Retoure
-
PayPal, Kauf auf Rechnung, Kreditkarte, Lastschrift
Produktdetails
Produktinformationen zu „Where We Are “
Klappentext zu „Where We Are “
From New York Times bestselling author Alison McGhee comes a stunning and heartbreaking story of two teens who fight to reunite when one of them is caught in the web of a sinister cult.Micah and Sesame are true best friends. They safeguard each other's secrets and share their dreams. Micah wants to save his parents from the cult leader who calls himself "the Prophet." Sesame recently lost the last of her own family-her grandmother-and plans to keep a low profile until she turns eighteen to avoid foster care. Together, they never doubt they can build the futures they want.
Until Micah disappears. The Prophet has taken Micah, his parents, and the rest of his followers underground. And trying to take on the Prophet in isolation, surrounded by his followers, proves to be a dangerous mistake that leaves Micah hopeless and at the Prophet's mercy.
Sesame, left alone, is wracked with fear over what could be happening to Micah. Never before have the two of them been so far apart-or needed each other more. But their faith in each other never wavers, and that may just be enough to save them both.
Lese-Probe zu „Where We Are “
Chapter 1: Micah 1 Micah WHEN THE KNOCK came, my parents were upstairs getting ready for bed, so I answered the door. It was weird to see Deeson, the head acolyte, outside of Reflection. Weirder yet to see him in a black hoodie. Not the type, Deeson. In fact, the complete opposite of a black hoodie type is Deeson. I mean, he'd tied the hoodie strings underneath his chin. But still, there he was, white face tilted up beneath the hood, appraising me.
"Bless the child, Acolyte Deeson," I said. That was-is-how members of the Living Lights greet each other.
"Gather your parents and your duffels and follow me," he said. "We are called to the South Compound."
See how he didn't address me as Acolyte Stone? That's Deeson. He has dead eyes. The Prophet once praised Deeson's eyes in Reflection, saying that they revealed purity of purpose. What purpose, though? That's what I wanted to ask but didn't. Like everyone else, I didn't ask questions during Reflection. One day into our underground life, I think about that. How none of us questioned the Prophet or anything he said.
Our duffels were prepacked and waiting at the top of the stairs: the white robes and white underwear we had all been issued months before, a gallon jug of water each, the Reflections book that the Prophet had written and self-published and that the Living Lights used instead of a Bible, and a brush or comb.
My parents looked up at me from the bathroom sink, where they were brushing their teeth-they always brushed their teeth at the same time-when I told them that Deeson was there, it was time to go to the South Compound, get the duffels and follow him. They didn't ask any questions. They just nodded. That's something else I think about now. They rinsed and spat and then the three of us packed our toothbrushes into our duffels and went downstairs where Deeson was waiting by the door.
"Bless the child, Acolytes Stone," he said to my parents-see, he called them acolytes-and then, "Did
... mehr
you send in the school excuse note last week, as instructed?"
My father nodded.
"Um, what excuse note?" I said.
"You are hereby excused from high school beginning tomorrow through the end of winter break for a family activity," Deeson said. "Fully in compliance with Minneapolis Public Schools attendance policy."
I stared at my parents, but they didn't meet my eyes. What the hell? No one had told me about this. This was a Wednesday night and there was still a week of school left before winter break began. In compliance or not, no way could I miss that much school, not junior year. And "family activity"? Deep inside me an alarm went off, an invisible, insistent alarm. Which got louder when Deeson spoke again.
"Phones," he said, and pointed at the kitchen counter.
Wait, what? Phones?
That wasn't part of Sesame's and my plan. The Prophet had been hinting that the time was nigh for the Living Lights to begin Phase Two of the project. He had bought an abandoned building somewhere in South Minneapolis-no one knew where, exactly-with the money he'd collected from the congregation, and the plan was to turn it into some kind of Living Lights Retreat Center.
Phase One: buying the building, which he named the South Compound.
Phase Two: everyone training together for retreat center life.
Phase Three: opening the retreat center.
Phase Four: Taking over the world? Making the Prophet the divine ruler of all? Shit, I don't know. I quit listening about five minutes into every one of his lectures.
Anyway.
Sesame's and my plan if they actually came for us: I would bring my phone and text her once we got to the South Compound and I knew for sure wher
My father nodded.
"Um, what excuse note?" I said.
"You are hereby excused from high school beginning tomorrow through the end of winter break for a family activity," Deeson said. "Fully in compliance with Minneapolis Public Schools attendance policy."
I stared at my parents, but they didn't meet my eyes. What the hell? No one had told me about this. This was a Wednesday night and there was still a week of school left before winter break began. In compliance or not, no way could I miss that much school, not junior year. And "family activity"? Deep inside me an alarm went off, an invisible, insistent alarm. Which got louder when Deeson spoke again.
"Phones," he said, and pointed at the kitchen counter.
Wait, what? Phones?
That wasn't part of Sesame's and my plan. The Prophet had been hinting that the time was nigh for the Living Lights to begin Phase Two of the project. He had bought an abandoned building somewhere in South Minneapolis-no one knew where, exactly-with the money he'd collected from the congregation, and the plan was to turn it into some kind of Living Lights Retreat Center.
Phase One: buying the building, which he named the South Compound.
Phase Two: everyone training together for retreat center life.
Phase Three: opening the retreat center.
Phase Four: Taking over the world? Making the Prophet the divine ruler of all? Shit, I don't know. I quit listening about five minutes into every one of his lectures.
Anyway.
Sesame's and my plan if they actually came for us: I would bring my phone and text her once we got to the South Compound and I knew for sure wher
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Alison McGhee
Alison McGhee is the New York Times bestselling author of Someday, as well as Dear Sister, What I Leave Behind, Pablo and Birdy, Where We Are, Maybe a Fox with Kathi Appelt, Firefly Hollow, Little Boy, So Many Days, Star Bright, A Very Brave Witch, Dear Brother, and the Bink and Gollie books. Her other children's books include All Rivers Flow to the Sea, Countdown to Kindergarten, and Snap!. She lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and Laguna Beach, California. You can visit her at AlisonMcGhee.com.
Produktdetails
- Autor: Alison McGhee
- Altersempfehlung: Ab 14 Jahre
- 2020, 272 Seiten, Maße: 14,6 x 21,6 cm, Gebunden, Englisch
- Verlag: Simon & Schuster US
- ISBN-10: 1534446125
- ISBN-13: 9781534446120
- Erscheinungsdatum: 10.09.2020
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
"A thoughtful, realistic story of survival." Kirkus Reviews
Schreiben Sie einen Kommentar zu "Where We Are".
Kommentar verfassen