Augusta, Gone

A mother watches her teenage daughter take one self-destructive step after another, and she is willing to try anything to pull her back. The warning signs add up: meals skipped, the bedroom door kept shut, mornings when the girl dashes out late, misses the bus, and needs a ride. It is easy to write it off as ordinary adolescence, and the mother tries to recall her own teenage years, though those belonged to a different time.

Some days the daughter is furious with her mother, and other days she is simply her familiar little girl again. Ordinary routines, like talking over something or shopping for school clothes, can make everything seem fine for a while. Then the memories come back with force: a cigarette, a blue pipe, and a small bag the girl insisted held nothing but aspirin, each discovery chilling the mother anew. The book follows the tug between a parent's love and a child's determination to harm herself.