Read an excerpt from “Things Don’t Break on Their Own” (exclusive)

Willa’s sister disappeared without a trace 25 years ago, and that thought has haunted her ever since. She sees her sister everywhere and is convinced she’s still alive – especially since the police never found her body. Then, when an old flame throws a dinner party, Willa assumes it’s just another reunion. But you know what they say about assumptions.

This is the premise of Things don’t break on their own by Sarah Easter Collins, is published on July 16 by Crown, an imprint of Penguin Random House. Read an exclusive excerpt below—and consider it an appetizer.

When Michael arrives, I watch the warmth of the sisterly embrace he shares with Robyn without it hurting me. All that understanding, I think, all that shared history. All those strong, unspoken bonds. The tsunami of grief I once felt over Laika’s absence is now more like a quiet wave, something that lives deep inside me, lapping somewhere at the edges of my mind. It was so long ago, but it’s there.

It is always, always there.

Michael hugs me too; I’ve known him for years. Then I turn around and meet his girlfriend Liv. I bite my lip as a secret part of me emerges. Pull yourself together, I tell myself, that’s Michael’s girlfriend. But Liv is a very attractive woman. She barely needs a touch of eyeliner to line her eyes; she’s just one of those women who are stunningly beautiful in a completely natural, unaffected way.

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She brushes a strand of hair from her face and tilts her head to the side as she listens intently to Michael. According to Robyn, Michael said she reminded him of me. That’s nice, I think, she’s lovely. I’m flattered that we were compared.

I’m not the only one watching Liv. So is Robyn. In fact, all of us except Cat are watching Liv, including, I realize, my boyfriend. I watch Jamie rise from the table and draw himself up to his full height, then walk toward her, with the stare of a cat watching a bird. At her greeting, he turns into charm personified, his voice dropping almost to a purr, a slow smile crossing his face. He sits her down across from him, pours her a glass of wine, and engages her in conversation. I wait to feel the dark twinge of jealousy, but it doesn’t come. I think, you big bitch, but with no particular resentment. Actually, I feel nothing.

“Nate is late,” says Cat. “Sorry, guys.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” says Liv. “It’s not like he disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Everyone is looking at me. Their movements are so small, so subtle, that it would be easy to miss them. They only do it in masses, and Liv looks around as if she notices something. Her eyes move from her to me, and in that moment of silence, I feel for her. I know what it feels like to be the outsider, the only person left out.

“My little sister disappeared,” I tell her, “22 years ago. She was 13. She was probably kidnapped. We think someone took her.”

My breath catches and my words sound strangely quiet and hoarse. “Her body was never found.”

Suddenly I want to cry. This story is hard, even now, after all these years, and I swallow as something terrible passes through me, something deadly floating up from the past. Because now I remember the very last time I ever saw Laika, standing in front of me in the early hours of the morning with blood on her hands. That’s what I will always remember: her hands. I never remember her face.

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This is something nobody tells you: the face of someone you once loved can fade like a blurry photograph. The terrible truth is: I have no real idea of ​​what she would look like today. When I try to imagine her as a grown woman, as an adult in her mid-thirties, I can’t. The only images I have of Laika are of a blurry 13-year-old, blurry and faceless, as if even then she somehow disappeared from my memory, became unrecognizable, became so far away from me that I could walk past her unknowingly any day of the week.

Jamie drums his fingers on the table.

“She could be anyone,” I say to Liv. “She could be you.”

Extract from Things don’t break on their own by Sarah Easter Collins. Copyright © 2024 Sarah Easter Collins. Published in the U.S. by Crown, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.

Things don’t break on their own will be released on July 16th and can be pre-ordered now wherever books are sold.