I wanted to lose myself in the small town of Pelion, Maine. To forget everything I had left behind. The sound of rain. The blood. The coldness of a gun against my skin. For six months, each breath has been a reminder that I survived—and my dad didn't. I'm almost safe again. But the moment I meet Archer Hale, my entire world tilts on its axis . . . and never rights itself again. Until I trespass into his strange, silent, and isolated world, Archer communicates with no one. Yet in his whiskey-colored eyes, something intangible happens between us.

Welcome to the most tumultuous summer of the 20th century. It's 1969, and for the Levin family, the times they are a-changing. Every year, the children have looked forward to spending the summer at their grandmother's historic home in downtown Nantucket. But like so much else in America, nothing is the same.

To the rest of the world, he was the little boy who went missing on the Fourth of July. But to Sydney Neville, he was everything. Her heart hasn't been the same since her best friend disappeared, but she's learned to build her life around that missing piece. Twenty-two years later, the last thing Sydney expects is for Oliver Lynch to return. Having been captive underground for decades, he's unfamiliar with the strange new world that awaits him—but he's alive. He's here. And no matter how he's changed, he and Sydney both still feel the connection that runs between them.

One evening, two years’ worth of memories lost. Under the pretense of recovery, my father sends me to an elite boarding college, but soon, my memories start rushing back, and it’s obvious I’m not at Lakeside to heal. I’m here to hide. Navigating the scattered past to decipher the threat lurking in the shadows is hard while I’m kept in the dark and even harder when he steals my focus. Crude, arrogant, and threatening, he draws me in, and the closer I get, the less I understand. Waking up without memories is terrifying, but remembering the time I lost is infinitely worse.

Hawken Trent. So polite. So sweet. Such an upstanding young man. A virgin, too, I hear. He never gets naughty with a girl. Probably because Jesus told him not to. And now here he is, trying to be the hero by protecting another girl from me. He calls me a bully. Irrational. Unreasonable. A criminal. He can call me anything he wants, I’ve heard worse. And he can try to stand between me and my money, but he’s never had to fight for food. That rich, clean, school boy doesn’t have what it takes