Novels by River Sorenson

Half a decade ago, the whole country was shocked by the brutal murder of a renowned ophthalmologist. The idea of being torn apart, butchered, with a kitchen knife made her sick, but that was all you could read about and listen to in the papers and radios. Traces of blood in the small cracks behind the nurse’s station, under the blue bench in the waiting area, overlooked on the silver handle of the door to the third-floor staircase, they stared back at you as if they had eyes...