In a small town just like any other, a police identity check goes wrong. The victim, Saïd, was fifteen years old. And now he is dead. Mattia is just eleven years old, and witnesses the hatred and sadness felt by those around him. While he didn’t know Saïd, his face can be seen all over the neighborhood, graffitied on walls in red paint, demanding “Justice.” Mattia decides to pull together the pieces of the puzzle, to try to understand what happened. Because even the dead don’t stay buried forever, and nothing is lost, ever. “Poignant, disturbing, moving, chilling… A novel Edvard Munch could have written if he had not been a painter.”—