Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10)

by Lisa Gardner

It’s true that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. But no one says that strength doesn’t come at a price.

Initially, my mom had thought she could control the story, the way she controlled every other facet of her highly fictionalized life. Needless to say, the reporters ate her alive.

Does he study predators because he wants to stop them, or because like always calls to like? Across from me, Keith has carefully reset his features.

And part of brilliance isn’t just solving a problem; it’s seeing a problem no one else realizes is a problem yet.

I have a moment of growing hysteria: Next time you’re arrested for the murder of your husband, grab your purse!

You don’t become a teacher without having some level of optimism. And you don’t stay in the field if you don’t believe that everyone, from bitter teens to burnt-out administrators, can change.

It’s dark. Some ambient lighting here and there from random windows where people are tucked in for the evening. There’s a strange mix of both closeness and isolation in such densely packed areas. So many people, crammed together. And yet each in his or her own little world.

“People think trauma is mental,” I say abruptly. “I’m mentally scarred, damaged, take your pick. And with enough therapy, time, my mind will heal and, ta-da, one day I’ll be all better again. But trauma isn’t just mental. It’s physiological. It’s an adrenal system that’s totally burnt out, so that I spend days at a time in fight mode.” I realize as I’m describing this that one of my knees is bouncing uncontrollably. “Followed by crashes where I can barely get out of bed.