You leaned back onto your elbows. As the sun set farther, the colors became vivid. A red washed over everything, brightening the darker sections in the painting. Shafts of light lit up the floor, illuminating the millions of pained dots and flower petals there. Red and orange and pinks intensified all around us, until it felt like we were sitting in the middle of a burning pit of fire … or in the middle of the sunset itself.
I tried to settle in to sleep one evening but could not bring myself to float into dreamland, so I reached for my usual curative: a good book. The first pages of Stolen: A Letter to My Captor did nothing to bring me into restfulness.
Lucy Christopher’s novel in the form of a letter is written by the captive Gemma to her abductor. In her letter she describes a painting created by her captor on fire with life, separating him somewhat from his foul actions. Flowing from the memories Gemma holds, her experience becomes more than a story of abduction. In most books of this type, an abductor comes clothed in shades of black with little room for anything other than evil intentions, while the abducted is swathed in innocence all white and airy.
