Hattie had told her to go to the river. But, she didn’t want to go to the river. The night was beginning to darken, the sounds of crickets scaring her, trees disfigured and menacing.... And, then he came. Darker than the darkness around her. Stealthier than any snake... a pain deeper than she had ever imagined. How old was she? Six? Seven?.... how many times had she ducked under only to come up unclean?
Sheryle’s world has always been a little mixed up. Locked in a world far different from her peers, she begins to hate her house, her foster mother and then herself as sinking slowly into death, she finds the only one she has ever loved parting.
From a house that is not pretty, a foster mother rarely around and an ailing foster brother, Sherry must learn to trust not only her social worker, Miss Horner, but the angel of a man. The man she had seen so long ago. The man whose eyes reveal something Sherry has yet to find. Something she desperately wishes she can have. But, what is it?
What is this hope offered to the hopeless? This contentment given to the restless. And, above all, what is this house? This house, far different from her own and... “not made with hands, eternal in the heavens....”
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