Somehow she'd always known that she would end like this. In a small square room, in a small square flat. In a small square box, perhaps. Cardboard, with a sticker on the outside. And a name . . . An old lady dies alone and unheeded in a cold Edinburgh flat on a snowy Christmas night. A faded emerald dress hangs in her wardrobe; a spilt glass of whisky pools on the floor. A few days later a middle-aged woman arrives back in the city she thought she'd left behind, her future uncertain, her past in tatters. She soon finds herself a job at the Office for Lost People, tracking down the families of those who have died neglected and alone. But what Margaret Penny cannot yet know, is just how entangled her own life will become in the death of one lonely stranger . . .
