The Dark Room by Minette Walters

By Minette Walters

During this acclaimed mental secret, Jinx Kingsley, a trendy photographer and millionaire’s daughter, wakes up in an particular health center struggling with amnesia. Not simply can she no longer keep in mind the auto coincidence that triggered her reminiscence loss, yet she doesn’t keep in mind that her coming near near marriage ceremony has been known as off or that her former fianc? and his female friend were brutally murdered within the related method her first husband have been ten years prior to. Now she needs to try and piece jointly her stories as a way to ascertain her innocence. With deft mental explorations and surprising twists, Walters brings the tale to an awe-inspiring end.

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The Dark Room

During this acclaimed mental secret, Jinx Kingsley, a well-liked photographer and millionaire’s daughter, wakes up in an specific health facility being affected by amnesia. Not merely can she now not have in mind the automobile twist of fate that prompted her reminiscence loss, yet she doesn’t do not forget that her drawing close marriage ceremony has been referred to as off or that her former fianc?

Extra info for The Dark Room

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They watched him as if he were the hero of a video game, as if he were not quite real. They were afraid of him, but they were also drawn like moths to a flame. He motioned to them and they surged forward as if each one were a leg of some giant insect. They had the Russian’s motorcycle in their midst, and he saw that they had it surrounded, that they were protecting it. “I won’t take the bike away from you, it’s yours,” he said in Hindi. ” By then the sound of a siren had become a wail, and with the lost boys supporting him he limped out of the pit into the arms of the medical team, who bundled him into the back of the ambulance, where they laid him down, one of them taking his pulse, checking his heart, while the other began to assess the wound.

No more grinning through gritted teeth, no more pretending a friendship where only bitter enmity existed. You’re a dead man, Dimitri Ilyinovich, Arkadin thought. You just don’t know it yet. A touch of watery pink had tinged the sky, and he was almost at Chaaya’s. Time to make the difficult call. He punched in an eleven-digit number. A male drone at the other end said “Federal Anti-Narcotics Agency” in Russian. The now infamous FSB-2 that, under its leader, a man named Viktor Cherkesov, had become the most powerful and feared agency within the Russian government, surpassing even the FSB, the KGB’s successor.

Not long after, he felt strong enough to call the local hospital. Then he ripped off an arm of his shirt and wrapped it around his leg to stanch the bleeding in his thigh. There was a pack of boys, runaways or children whose parents had been killed in one of the many sectarian skirmishes that from time to time swept through the neighborhoods, a whirlwind of hate and blood. They watched him as if he were the hero of a video game, as if he were not quite real. They were afraid of him, but they were also drawn like moths to a flame.

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