Change of Heart

A Novel
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The acclaimed #1 New York Times bestselling author of Small Great Things, "who delivers book after book, a winning combination of the literary and the commercial" (Entertainment Weekly), Jodi Picoult presents a spellbinding tale of a mother's tragic loss and a criminal's last chance at gaining salvation.
Can we save ourselves, or do we rely on others to do it? Is what we believe always the truth?

One day June Nealon was happily anticipating a lifetime of laughter and adventure with her family, and the next, she was staring into a future that was as empty as her heart. Now her life is a waiting game-waiting for time to heal her wounds, waiting for justice. In short, waiting for a miracle.

For Shay Bourne, life holds no more surprises. In a heartbeat, something happened that changed everything for him. Now, he has one last chance for salvation, and it lies with June's twelve-year-old daughter, Claire. But between Shay and Claire stretches an ocean of bitter regrets, past crimes, and the rage of a mother who lost her child.

This "bold story of loss, justice, redemption, and faith reminds us how tragically truth can be concealed and denied" (Booklist) and reminds us why Jodi Picoult is one of the most acclaimed and beloved authors of our time.
Autor: Jodi Picoult
Jodi Picoult, geb. 1967 auf Long Island, lebt nach ihrem Studium in Princeton und Harvard zusammen mit ihrem Mann und drei Kindern in Hanover, New Hampshire. 1992 veröffentlichte sie ihren ersten Roman. 2003 wurde sie für ihre Werke mit dem National England Book Award ausgezeichnet. Sie gehört zu den erfolgreichsten amerikanischen Erzählerinnen weltweit ihr Roman 'Beim Leben meiner Schwester' wurde in Hollywood verfilmt.
Change of Heart SEVEN MONTHS LATER
MICHAEL

Shay Bourne was nothing like I expected.

I had prepared myself for a hulking brute of a man, one with hammy fists and no neck and eyes narrowed into slits. This was, after all, the crime of the century-a double murder that had captured the attention of people from Nashua to Dixville Notch; a crime that seemed all the worse because of its victims: a little girl, and a police officer who happened to be her stepfather. It was the kind of crime that made you wonder if you were safe in your own house, if the people you trusted could turn on you at any moment-and maybe because of this, New Hampshire prosecutors sought the death penalty for the first time in fifty-eight years.

Given the media blitz, there was talk of whether twelve jurors who hadn't formed a reaction to this crime could even be found, but they managed to locate us. They unearthed me in a study carrel at UNH, where I was writing a senior honors thesis in mathematics. I hadn't had a decent meal in a month, much less read a newspaper-and so I was the perfect candidate for Shay Bourne's capital murder case.

The first time we filed out of our holding pen-a small room in the superior courthouse that would begin to feel as familiar as my apartment-I thought maybe some bailiff had let us into the wrong courtroom. This defendant was small and delicately proportioned-the kind of guy who grew up being the punch line to high school jokes. He wore a tweed jacket that swallowed him whole, and the knot of his necktie squared away from him at the perpendicular, as if it were being magnetically repelled. His cuffed hands curled in his lap like small animals; his hair was shaved nearly to the skull. He stared down at his lap, even when the judge spoke his name and it hissed through the room like steam from a radiator.

The judge and the lawyers were taking care of housekeeping details when the fly came in. I noticed this for two reasons: in March, you don't see many flies in New Hampshire, and I wondered how you went about swatting one away from you when you were handcuffed and chained at the waist. Shay Bourne stared at the insect when it paused on the legal pad in front of him, and then in a jangle of metal, he raised his bound hands and crashed them down on the table to kill it.

Or so I thought, until he turned his palms upward, his fingers opened one petal at a time, and the insect went zipping off to bother someone else.

In that instant, he glanced at me, and I realized two things:

1. He was terrified.

2. He was approximately the same age that I was.

This double murderer, this monster, looked like the water polo team captain who had sat next to me in an economics seminar last semester. He resembled the deliveryman from the pizza place that had a thin crust, the kind I liked. He even reminded me of the boy I'd seen walking in the snow on my way to court, the one I'd rolled down my window for and asked if he wanted a ride. In other words, he didn't look the way I figured a killer would look, if I ever ran across one. He could have been any other kid in his twenties. He could have been me.

Except for the fact that he was ten feet away, chained at the wrists and ankles. And it was my job to decide whether or not he deserved to live.

A month later, I could tell you that serving on a jury is nothing like you see on TV. There was a lot of being paraded back and forth between the courtroom and the jury room; there was bad food from a local deli for lunch; there were lawyers who liked to hear themselves talk, and trust me, the DAs were never as hot as the girl on Law & Order: SVU. Even after four weeks, coming

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Autor: Jodi Picoult
ISBN-13 :: 9781501102431
ISBN: 1501102435
Verlag: Simon & Schuster US, Pocket Books
Gewicht: 289g
Seiten: 624
Sprache: Englisch
Sonstiges: Taschenbuch, 179x108x33 mm
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