About the book
Every Room Has a Witness
The first notice arrived folded into the mouth of a brown envelope and stamped twice, as if the county itself had lost patience and struck the paper harder the second time. Nóra Harte found it on the kitchen table at six fourteen in the morning, beneath the chipped blue mug her mother had used until the day she died, beside a school permission slip for Finn’s hurling blitz and three coins saved for the hospital vending machine.