In the midst of a chaotic midnight assembly, Sunshine is forced out into the darkness. Holding a scrap of paper scrawled with a stranger’s name and address, Sunny grasps the hands of her three small children and begins her escape.
Liesel Albright has dreamed of starting a family. She never bargained on inheriting one already in progress…or one so deeply damaged. When nineteen-year-old Sunshine appears on the Albright’s doorstep claiming Liesel’s husband Chris is her father, all they can think to offer is temporary shelter. The next day, they’re stunned by the news that the Family of Superior Bliss, led by a charismatic zealot, has committed mass suicide. Sunny and her children haven’t just left the compound–they’ve been left behind.
Now, instead of a baby of her own, Liesel must play mother to the four survivors while Chris retreats into guilt and denial. For Sunny, however, a lifetime of teachings is not easily unlearned. No matter how hard she tries to forget, an ominous catechism echoes in her mind, urging her to finish what the Family started.
“Megan Hart brings all the characters to life in All Fall Down and also gives the reader a look into life inside a cult. Family relationships are put to the test as everyone tries to adjust to sudden changes and also to the clashes of totally different upbringings as they come together under one roof.” Reader to Reader
Read an Excerpt
“Get up, Sunshine.”
Sunny didn’t want to get up. She’d only just started dreaming. She hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep at a time for the past three weeks. Tugging at the blankets, she shifted on the thin pad of her mattress and burrowed deeper into her pillow.
“Sunshine. Now!”
Sunny rubbed at her eyes, listening. No babies were crying. No alarms were ringing. She heard only the soft breathing of her sleeping children and her mom’s urgent whisper.
“Sunny. Get up. C’mon. It’s time for you to go.”
Sunny sat then, eyes wide and blinking in the darkness. A tiny crack of light shone from under the door, then the unfamiliar glimmer of yellow from the flashlight her mom held tight against her body, fingers cupped over the lens. Her hand made a shadow like a giant spider on the ceiling. Sunny looked immediately to the crib where baby Bliss lay sleeping. Happy’s cot was empty.
They’d taken him.
Sunny was up and out of bed, across the room and tearing at the blankets before her mom could grab her.
“Hush! He’s here, with me. He’s ready to go. You need to help me now, Sunny. You get the baby. I’ll take care of Peace. Now!” Her mom’s whisper hissed, harsh, not like her normal voice at all.
Sunny’s heart pounded. Her palms were sweaty, and she scrubbed them against the soft flannel of her nightgown. The light from the flashlight swung as her mom set it on the cheap dresser missing a leg. The light wouldn’t stay steady.
“Mama? Is it time for the rainbow?” The wobbling light hurt Sunny’s eyes.
Disoriented, sluggish, she could think of only one reason why her mother would’ve woken them. “Is it time to leave?”
“Sunshine.” Mama’s face was even harder than her voice.”Hush. You need to get yourself and the babies out of here. Don’t ask questions. Hush and do as I say. Listen.”
Sunny hushed, going still and quiet. She listened with her heart, as she’d been taught. To obey.
Her mother took both of Sunny’s hands and brought them to her lips. She kissed the knuckles. In the pale and trembling light, Sunny’s mom looked pale and trembling, herself. She looked too thin, her cheeks hollow. There were shadows under her eyes that had been there for a while but now looked extra dark. She pulled Sunny into a tight hug, crushing Happy between them. The boy didn’t cry out. He was listening too.
“Get out? I don’t understand.” Sunny was awake now. Wide awake. She moved to the crib to change Bliss’s wet diapers and dress the baby in a fresh nightgown. Also the socks her mom tossed at her. A knit cap. A blanket, wrapped tight around Sunny’s now-waking daughter.
Sunny’s mom grabbed her by the upper arms, turning her. “I have money. Here.”
She pressed a soft wallet stuffed with folded bills into Sunny’s hands. “I’ve packed your bags, just one backpack for you and Bliss and Peace. Happy’s a big boy, he can carry his own bag, can’t you, my sweetheart?”
“I can, Nana.”
Sunny looked at her son. At four, he was just starting to lose the baby plump in his cheeks, but it seemed like only yesterday that she’d held him the way she was holding Bliss now. She looked at her mother. Her heart skipped at the weight of the money in her hand and the baby in her arms. With the heaviness of knowledge.
The alarms blared. The lights in Sunny’s tiny, concrete-walled bedroom came on overhead, bright enough to startle Bliss fully awake and into a scream. Sunny closed her eyes against the glare.
“No time for that! Come on! Let’s go!”
Sunny’s mom tugged her forward to sling a backpack over the arm not cradling Bliss. In her cot, Peace sat straight up, small mouth in a frightened “o,” while Happy struggled into his own backpack. Sunny’s mom helped Peace out of bed. She tugged a sweatshirt over the little girl’s head and shoved her feet into shoes while Sunny grabbed the blanket up from her bed and slung it around Happy’s shoulders. He had no winter coat. None of them did. No boots, either, though Happy wore a pair of battered sneakers two sizes too big, the laces shredded and knotted so tight they couldn’t be undone. Sunny had a zippered sweatshirt, ragged at the sleeves, the strings of the hood missing.The zip would go only halfway up, and it was impossible to make it go further with one arm cradling a baby. Maybe not even with two free hands to tug it.
“It’ll have to do. We don’t have time to get you anything else.” Her mother paused to press her fingertips between her eyes, a habit she’d taken up over the couple years that had become so second-nature she didn’t notice she was doing it…but Sunny did.
It meant her mom’s head was hurting her again. Maybe bad enough she’d have to lie down in a dark room. It might even be so bad that John Second would let her miss chapel if this were during the day, but never a summons in the middle of the night. Not when it might be time for the rainbow.
Papa’s voice came over the speakers. The commands of a dead man, speaking calmly. “Listen now, my children. Listen with your hearts. The time has come. The time has come. Listen now, family. Listen with your hearts.”
Sunny clutched her baby to her chest as her mom shoved Sunny’s feet into a pair of men’s work boots. Sunny looked down at her mother kneeling, the top of her head, her blonde hair shot thickly with silver. When had her mom’s hair gone so gray? Her mom looked up at her, and Sunny was alarmed to see tears streaking her mom’s cheeks. Her mother never cried. They weren’t allowed to cry.
Her mom got up. From the hallway outside came the steady sound of marching feet. Never running. Running was for people who had something to run from, those were Papa’s words, even to the children who were found playing tag in the hallways. One foot in front of the other, that’s how the family walked, with quiet and careful steps to keep the world from ever thinking they were afraid.
Sunny was afraid.








