I knew One Summer in Savannah by Terah Shelton Harris was going to be a doozy of a read. It opened with not one but two quotes about forgiveness.

“Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could be different.”—Oprah Winfrey

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”—Gandhi

Also included in the author’s note is her warning regarding trauma triggers in the novel for some readers. The triggering events, while never explained in elaborate detail, are the roots of the paths to forgiveness for all the characters. Draw a line from any one character to another and forgiveness needs to be granted in one form or another.

At eighteen, Sara Lancaster was the victim of a sexual assault by Daniel Wyler at a party. Daniel maintained his innocence and let his attorneys and mother tarnish Sara’s reputation. Black girl versus prominent, rich, historically white family, but the Wylers are an interracial couple. Their old money couldn’t save Daniel from being convicted and sentenced thanks in part to Daniel’s own twin brother Jacob testifying against him. Jacob’s testimony causes a deeper rift in the family. Post-trial, Sara fled Savannah for Maine and never returned. Jacob, who became a renowned astrophysicist also disappeared for years.

Eight years later with news of an ailing father, Sara returns to Savannah. First told one thing about Hosea’s prognosis then told something else once she arrives in Savannah, she extends her stay. In tow, is her genius daughter, Alana, who as much as Sara hates to admit it, “gets it from her daddy” as the saying goes. The Wyler twins are exceptionally intelligent. By her own admission, Sara had a delayed connection to her daughter, the result of her assault. Only Hosea and Sara’s stepmother Sylvia know of Alana’s existence. She feared the Wylers seeking custody of the child.

This story was definitely a roller coaster of a ride. The Lancasters and Wylers are dealing with issue after issue. Hosea’s failing health, Sara and Jacob’s well-deserved ill feelings towards Daniel, Daniel’s cancer diagnosis and imminent release from prison, Jacob feeling disconnected from but wanting a relationship with Daniel and his mother. Then there’s the incredible (ridiculous?) twist of Sara and Jacob falling in love. In her defense, she didn’t know who he was—at first.

A short time before Sara arrives at her hometown, Jacob, who has changed his name, has also recently returned. The astrophysicist frequents the local bookstore and befriends the owner: Hosea, who oddly only speaks in poetic lines. Whether he’s posed or posing a question or statement, he manages to pull poetry lines from the depths of his memory. Kudos to him, but not only does it annoy Sara, it annoys me that he doesn’t speak directly and plain.

Sara lost her own mother when she was young. Her father never officially remarried and is in a long-term partnership with Sylvia who served as a mother figure to Sara. She doesn’t mince words when needed and clocks Sara and Jacob’s feelings for each other from the beginning. Hosea and Slyvia’s relationship is unconventional. The older couple does not live together.

Jacob carries the guilt of his brother’s actions, but doesn’t regret testifying against him. From the very first time we meet Jacob, he admits to himself that he misses his brother. They haven’t spoken in eight years. The other grief that Jacob carries are the deaths of his younger sister, killed in a car accident, and his father who committed suicide.

Jacob and Daniel are identical, biracial twins. I didn’t understand the point of making the Wylers children of an interracial marriage between a wealthy white father and a black mother. It never really seems to be an issue, good or bad, throughout the story, so much so that at first I had trouble discerning who was the Black parent and who was the white parent, although generational wealth should’ve been the biggest clue.

Bernadette, who goes by Birdie, is not a likable character. Even if tempted to give her grace for being a grieving widow who buried a child and has another one behind bars, by both David and Jacob’s accounts, she was never a loving and doting mother. They had and have a closer connection with their nanny/housekeeper, still employed by Birdie. Daniel was noticeably the favorite, followed by their younger sister, leaving Jacob to feel like the oddball child. Wanting to be part of a family again, Jacob finally relents and begins visiting Daniel in prison after eight years. He’s even the one to pick him up when he’s released.

Years later, Daniel finally admits out loud that he did assault Sara. He says he was lashing out because of the pain of losing his sister. After allowing his attorneys and mother to staunchly defend him during the trial, and eight years into his ten-year sentence, he’s faced with his own mortality after being diagnosed with cancer. Time has forced him to reflect. He wants to forgive his brother and seek forgiveness from those around him.

The novel was like a soap opera in written form. A sexual assault survivor falling in love with the twin brother of her assaulter, a daughter who looks just like her dead aunt, the loved ones of the burgeoning couple ending up in the same hospital on different floors at the same time, therefore causing a collision course of people who are strangers, but related and connected because of one little girl.

One Summer in Savannah was a roller coaster of emotions but also a masterclass in forgiveness. I DM’d the author while reading and she revealed some of the circumstances are loosely based on a friend. It may take a long time to learn how to forgive or ask for forgiveness. One might say “I could never” or “how could these characters ever forgive such and such?” but you see it is plausible after reading the winding path, the struggle, the uncertainty, the having to be nudged, so that they can lay down their burdens. It is seeable and it is doable, but as for me, nearly five years into therapy it’s still a topic and struggle. In a moment of blatant honesty, frustration, and confusion, I asked my therapist, “what the fuck does forgiveness mean and what is the point? I don’t get it!”

I feel weird calling One Summer in Savannah a good book or an enjoyable read. It was a heavy book that kept me engaged. The author did a great job with character development and their evolution. I also appreciated that she didn’t go into graphic detail about the trauma—it’s understood. Even though Alana was an unknown secret for years, she’s basically the glue that connects and holds everyone, a family, together. She’s blessed with both genius and naiveté which gives everyone a clean slate in her eyes. Forgiveness allows the adults in her life to do the same.