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The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley [Paperback]

$13.99       (Free Shipping)
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  • Category: Books
  • Author:  Hutchinson, Shaun David
  • Author:  Hutchinson, Shaun David
  • ISBN-10:  1481403117
  • ISBN-10:  1481403117
  • ISBN-13:  9781481403115
  • ISBN-13:  9781481403115
  • Publisher:  Simon Pulse
  • Publisher:  Simon Pulse
  • Pages:  320
  • Pages:  320
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-Dec-2016
  • Pub Date:  01-Dec-2016
  • SKU:  1481403117-11-MING
  • SKU:  1481403117-11-MING
  • Item ID: 100124434
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Nov 28 to Nov 30
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.

A heartbreaking yet uplifting story about a boy who has lost everything but finds new hope drawing in the shadows of a hospital. Features a thirty-two-page graphic novel.

Andrew Brawley was supposed to die that night, just like the rest of his family.

Now he lives in the hospital, serving food in the cafeteria, hanging out with the nurses, sleeping in a forgotten supply closet. Drew blends in to near invisibility, hiding from his past, his guilt, and those who are trying to find him. His only solace is in the world of the superhero he’s created—Patient F.

Then, one night, Rusty is wheeled into the ER, half his body burned by hateful classmates. Rusty’s agony is like a beacon for Drew, pulling them together through all their pain and grief. In Rusty, Drew sees hope, happiness, and a future for both of them. A future outside of the hospital, and away from their painful pasts.

But to save Rusty, Drew will have to confront death, and life might get worse before it gets better. And by telling the truth about who he really is, Drew risks any chance of a future…for both of them.Five Stages of Andrew Brawley
Images

The boy is on fire.

EMTs wheel him into Roanoke General’s sterile emergency room. He screams and writhes on the gurney as though the fire that burned his skin away burns still, flaring deep within his bones, where the paramedics and doctors and nurses crowding around him, working desperately, will never be able to extinguish it.

The boy looks my age, seventeen. His hair, where it isn’t singed, is the color of autumn leaves. The kind of leaves I used to rake into piles with my dad and take running jumps into.

I can’t see the boy’s eyes from where I’m hiding, but his voice is a chain. It grates as agony dlc®

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