After surviving an attack at a crime scene that left him unable to trust his own mind, photographer Nick Parker starts seeing the faces of the dead he's photographed staring back at him from the mirrors of his own home - and has no one to turn to but a detective who is about to discover the case is tangled up in her own mother's forty-year-old disappearance.
SOME REFLECTIONS DON'T BELONG TO YOU.
Nick Parker has spent his career behind a camera, photographing the worst thing that ever happened to dozens of strangers and going home clean every time. Distance is the whole job. Feel nothing, document everything, let the film carry what he can't.
Then an attack at a crime scene leaves him burned and shaken, certain of nothing anymore - not his own memory, not his own eyes. So when the faces of the people he's photographed start appearing in the mirrors of his own house, Nick doesn't know whether he's finally cracking under the weight of what he's seen, or whether something has followed him home that no camera will ever prove is real. He tells no one. Least of all Detective Betty "Sprigs" Black, the woman he works every crime scene beside, and the one person he can't afford to let see him unravel.
Sprigs has a case to build and a pattern that won't resolve - and beneath both, a file she stopped opening a long time ago: her own mother, missing for forty years, a past she promised herself she'd never go looking for again. She and Nick work the investigation shoulder to shoulder, each of them carrying a secret neither one knows the other has.
Because some reflections aren't random.
Some reflections are warnings.
For readers of Gone Girl, In the Woods, and The Silence of the Lambs.
