Barefoot at Sunrise

Three strangers. One sunrise. A door they did not know was closed.

Milo has done everything right—career, apartment, retirement account. He is also exhausted in a way no amount of sleep can fix. Dante’s wife died four years ago. He still keeps her side of the bed unchanged, still carries her like a stone in his chest. Zara has 847,000 followers and no one to call when she is sad. She cannot remember what she looks like without the filter.

They do not know each other. They do not know they are looking for the same thing.

When a chance encounter brings them together—a used bookstore, a handwritten note, a woman named Babs with a moon tattooed on her wrist—they begin a journey that will cost them their jobs, their friends, their sense of belonging. They will stand barefoot in the sun at sunrise. They will track the moon. They will touch the soil. They will weep in circles and chant with strangers and learn to sit in silence when every instinct tells them to reach for their phones.

What they gain is something they did not know they had lost: themselves.

Barefoot at Sunrise is a novel about waking up. Not to a new belief, but to an old way of being. Three people stop waiting for the world to change and remember that they already know how to live.