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One by one

Ware, Ruth, (author.). Church, Imogen, (narrator.).

Getting snowed in at a beautiful, rustic mountain chalet doesn't sound like the worst problem in the world, especially when there's a breathtaking vista, a cozy fire, and company to keep warm. But what happens when that company is eight coworkers, none of whom can be trusted? An off-site company retreat meant to promote mindfulness and collaboration goes utterly wrong when an avalanche hits, the corporate food chain becomes irrelevant and survival trumps togetherness. Come Monday morning, how many members short will the team be?

CD Audiobook  - 2020
FIC Ware
1 copy / 0 on hold

Available Copies by Location

Location
Victoria Available
  • ISBN: 9781797111360
  • Physical Description 11 audio discs (13 hr.) ; 4 3/4 in.
  • Edition Unabridged.
  • Publisher [New York] : Simon & Schuster Audio, [2020]

Content descriptions

General Note:
Title from container.
Compact discs.
GMD: sound recording.
Participant or Performer Note:
Read by Imogen Church.

Additional Information

Syndetic Solutions - Excerpt for ISBN Number 9781797111360
One by One
One by One
by Ware, Ruth; Church, Imogen (Read by)
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Excerpt

One by One

1. Liz LIZ Snoop ID: ANON101 Listening to: James Blunt / You're Beautiful Snoopers: 0 Snoopscribers: 0 I keep my earbuds shoved into my ears on the minibus from Geneva Airport. I ignore Topher's hopeful looks and Eva, glancing over her shoulder at me. It helps, somehow. It helps to shut out the voices in my head, their voices, pulling me this way and that, pummeling me with their loyalties and their arguments to and fro. Instead, I let James Blunt drown them out, telling me I'm beautiful, over and over again. The irony of the statement makes me want to laugh, but I don't. There's something comforting in the lie. It is 1:52 p.m. Outside the window the sky is iron gray, and the snowflakes swirl hypnotically past. It's strange. Snow is so white on the ground, but when it's falling, it looks gray against the sky. It might as well be ash. We are starting to climb now. The snow gets thicker as we gain height, no longer melting into rain when it hits the window but sticking, sliding along the glass, the windscreen wipers swooshing it aside into rivulets of slush that run horizontally across the passenger window. I hope the bus has snow tires. The driver changes gear; we are approaching yet another hairpin bend. As the bus swings around the narrow curve, the ground falls away, and I have a momentary feeling that we're going to fall--a lurch of vertigo that makes my stomach heave and my head spin. I shut my eyes, blocking them all out, losing myself in the music. And then the song stops. And I am alone, with only one voice left in my head, and I can't shut it out. It's my own. And it's whispering a question that I've been asking myself since the plane lifted off the runway at Gatwick. Why did I come? Why? But I know the answer. I came because I couldn't afford not to. Excerpted from One by One by Ruth Ware All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.