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An exceptional book that ends with healing catharsis. Amos Oz

A magnificent novel. Tsruya Shalev knows how to elegantly depict the fragility of family and love. Transfuge

Tsruya Shalev is a sorceress who transforms unprocessed grief and unconscious wounds into rebirth. Livres Hebdo

Incredibly intimate. A rare and difficult novel – like all beautiful things. Marianne

Only later would she understand that there had been everything but silence there, yet it was silence that had been etched into her memory. Yes, actually, why didn't her husband take the children to school that morning as usual? She was exhausted after leaving them at the school entrance, then accelerated to climb the busy street, passed a bus stopped at the stop, and suddenly the most terrible sound she had ever heard hit her eardrums, followed by absolute silence. Deafened not by the force of the explosion – erupted like a volcano of incendiary materials, bolts, nails, nuts mixed with rat poison to increase bleeding – but by another sound, louder, even more horrifying, the voices of dozens of passengers brutally torn from life. She heard the sobs of torn limbs, of burned skin, of legs that would never move again, of arms that would never embrace again, of beauty buried under ash, and now she hears those same sobs again. She covers her ears and collapses heavily onto Miki's knee. Unexpectedly behind her, drowning out the moan that had stalked her, laughter bursts out – cruel, unrestrained laughter. The two of them, she and Miki, turn their heads toward the end of the corridor, where their son, tall and thin, stands on the threshold of his room, waving his long curls and between two happy neighs tosses out: