Every clock in Tidewick lied. Only one girl knew.
Thirteen-year-old Wren Alder has never slept through a midnight. At the twelfth stroke the whole town falls into a dreamless sleep for one hour and wakes remembering nothing. Wren is the only one left awake. She has learned not to be afraid, and she has learned the three Rules of her grandfather's clock shop. The third is: If you hear the thirteenth bell, do not answer it.
Then one rainy November night the bell rings from inside the shop. Her grandfather's bed is empty, his tea is still steaming, and the clock she was never allowed to touch is running backwards.
Behind a wall that was really a door lies the Hollow Hour, a hidden city built from stolen minutes. Everything there has a price: a step, a word, a memory. With a sharp-tongued wooden cuckoo in her pocket, an honest pocket watch counting down, and a boy who sells minutes and may be lying to her, Wren has one hour to find her grandfather and learn what he has been hiding for years. Her mother's postcards stopped long ago, and the answers may be waiting at the bottom of the Deep Stair.
The Hollow Hour is a story about grief, forgiveness, and the love people give away without asking for anything back. It's funny, strange, and full of heart. It's for anyone who ever sat up waiting for someone to come home.