Have you ever been driving to a dentist appointment, thinking about the book you’re reading, when it hits you. You know how the story ends, and you just start crying? No? Well, that was my morning. I know, it sounds dramatic to get that emotional over a book you’re not even holding. I’m honestly glad I left it at home, or I would’ve been a complete mess in the waiting room.

This book was unexpected. The cover and title had me thinking it would be another heart-warming beach read. Instead, it squeezed my heart. I love reading, but sometimes I find it physically painful. I can’t breathe; my stomach drops; my throat tightens as I try to hold it together. I ask myself: why do I put myself through this? A part of this story was especially hard to read because of my own experiences, and to feel that an author truly sees you…. It gave me space to reflect, to rage a little, and to remember that past pain doesn’t have to be present pain.

If you haven’t read this yet, don’t go in expecting a light read. It’s so much more—and it reminded me why I love dual-timeline historical fiction. The way an author can weave two stories together so seamlessly, leaving you wondering the entire time how these two women, separated by decades and worlds, are connected. It’s a reminder that we’re only here because of the small choices and miracles that came before us.