A few words from the author:
"Windows to the Soul" was a gift. Not a gift in the sense it was given to me to read; rather a voice (a muse?) cried out as I walked around my neighborhood, "She's dead."
I was the only person on the street, so I pulled my jacket collar up around my neck as I listened to the story. I rushed home, but the struggling songwriter I was had no idea what to do with the saga of a young couple, their little girl and a prisoner.
Sometimes perseverance pays off and honing a craft, and listening to characters when you don't want to hear what they have to say -- or what they admit to.
I hope the Harts' story and that of Cooder Ward impacts you half as much as it did me. I feel more like the messenger than the author.