Every now and then, a review arrives that not only reflects the emotional core of a book but captures it so precisely, it leaves me speechless. Joanna E Johnson’s review of Justice did just that. 

She wrote: 

"So much more than fiction – if you want to know about the teen psyche, read it! Totally engrossing and heartstoppingly sad, the author waits until the last moment before relenting with just a glimpse of a silver lining." 

Joanna—thank you. These words meant the world to me. 

Justice was always intended to be more than just a story. I wanted it to be a window into the inner world of a teenager—raw, conflicted, misunderstood, and often unheard. So when you said it’s “so much more than fiction,” it truly felt like you saw the book for what it really is: a mirror to the often overlooked struggles and strength of young minds. 

Your use of “heartstoppingly sad” is something I both humbly accept and quietly treasure. Writing Justice was emotionally intense—I had to sit with the pain, the silence, and the injustice that so many young people feel but cannot always articulate. It was never easy. But I believed it was necessary. 

And yes, I did wait until the very last moment to offer a silver lining. Because isn’t that how real life often is? Darkness can linger, but there’s always a thread of light—if not in a sweeping happy ending, then in the smallest acts of resilience, hope, or connection. That glimpse is important. It says: this isn’t the end. 

It’s deeply affirming to know the emotional pacing and final beat of the story resonated with you so strongly. 

Thank you, Joanna, for seeing beneath the surface. For recognizing the soul of the story. And for reminding me why I wrote Justice in the first place—to start a conversation that so often remains unspoken.