Ezra Cross lives in a house that listens. Every groan in the walls feels personal; every shadow seems to remember his name. By day, he writes to survive. By night, his stories whisper back. The world knows him as a prolific author-but no one knows the sounds behind his door: the breaking glass, the quiet weeping, the voices in the vents.
When his latest book begins to mirror the life he's trapped in, Ezra realizes the house isn't haunted by ghosts-it's haunted by the living. Each page he writes tightens the grip between fiction and fate.
Bleak, intimate, and unforgettable, Nowhere Was Ever Home transforms domestic horror into psychological revelation-a portrait of an artist building a monument from his own ruin.
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