More than ten years after his daughter died, William still mourns her. His days are identical, routine drowning everything, including the pain. Until one night when his daughter calls him - she’s in the center of a maze, waiting for his daddy to come and rescue her. Is he crazy? Or did Wendy somehow get trapped in the unfinished mazebook left by her hospital bed? Lemire is trying very hard to be profound here - but he already wrote this book before, and way too many of the philosophical tidbits...
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